Memories of the Future
by Wig Pigeon
Summary: Why hasn't Voldemort's death given Harry the peace and happiness he so desires? Now Head Auror, his primary responsibilities: paperwork, chasing criminals, fighting with the minister, and keeping Fred and George out of trouble. But change is inevitable.
1. Prologue: Just Another Day at the Office

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Prologue: Just Another Day in the Office  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Why hasn't Voldemort's death given Harry the peace and happiness he so desires? Harry is now Head Auror. His primary responsibilities: paperwork, chasing petty criminals, fighting with the minister, keeping Fred and George out of trouble, and helping find a new DADA teacher for Hogwarts every year. But change is inevitable when your name is Harry Potter.

* * *

"Just another day in the office eh Harry?" 

"Very funny. I don't even remember the last time I had so much as an hour at the office," replied Harry, knocking over a meter high pile of parchment. "I don't think I'll ever finish all of this paperwork."

"You could always ask for Rita's help; I'm sure she could manage a few dramatic descriptions of your cases. It might make them halfway interesting to read. To be honest Harry, I'd be surprised if anyone ever looks at them."

"Come on Hermione, we both know that's not true."

"What do you mean," Hermione responded tartly, blushing slightly.

Harry shook his head and smiled admiringly. "You really can't help yourself can you?"

"Oh come on Harry, I'm not that obvious," she paused looking away from his penetrating green stare. "Okay maybe I am. They're not that boring actually. That one last week about the—"

"Oh yes they are Hermione and we should be grateful for that. Dull news is good news coming from this department. I'm just glad we've finally made a habit of it." Harry turned to his catastrophe of a desk and began shuffling papers and writing notes in an aimless attempt at improving the mess.

The paperwork aside, Harry James Potter had never looked more in his element. If he had allowed them to, the Minister's communications office would certainly have made Harry their own personal poster-child. That same messy hair that still made the girls swoon, also gave him an aura of hard work and determination. Surely a man such as this was constantly hard at work defending against evil.

"You'd think the most productive Auror the ministry has ever had would get a bigger office."

"I have the biggest office in the department Hermione," Harry called desperately from behind a stack of backlogged case files. "After all the expansions that were done during the war we couldn't possibly get any bigger, not even magically. You know, he'd never say so publicly but Arthur's told me they've really started to get some dimensional interference over at Counterfeit Spells and Objects."

"I know, he's told me a number of times too. Just last week while I was over for dinner he mentioned that his new deputy went and splinched himself when he tried to apparate into the office. Both of his arms ended up on Tonks' desk."

"How did I not hear about that?" Harry asked, without looking up from his illegible scribbling.

"Because Arthur pulled some strings and smoothed the whole thing over. You know any apparation accident within the first year of a provisional license is subject to review and suspension. Besides, Arthur figures it wasn't his fault anyway. Tonks got moved down the hall a bit when we added those last few offices. I guess we've been pushing up against Arthur's department a little too hard."

"Well, maybe he should push back."

"What do you mean, 'push back'?"

"Come on, you know the minister isn't going to downsize this department without a fight. If people start hearing about this sort of thing he might have to consider it."

"Do you really think we should? I mean—"

"Hermione, the department of Aurors is twice the size it was when Scrimgeour took over and that was back when Voldemort was still on the loose. Most of this staff is out there busting doxy farmers and harassing the goblins at Gringotts. You could eliminate half of the departments at the ministry for all the stuff they keep throwing our way to keep us busy."

"Is that so?" Hermione mused skeptically scanning Harry's mess.

"What?"

"Oh nothing."

"Spill it Hermione."

"Nothing, I suppose you're right actually. It makes sense, now that I think about it. It's just that, if that's the case then maybe…" her voice trailed off as she picked up the hastily written case review Harry had just scribbled down, scanning it perfunctorily.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry replied snatching back the parchment. "I'll start cutting back on my caseload. Ginny's been after me anyway."

"Well I should think so, you must be working near a hundred hours a week some weeks."

"Hang on a minute. What time is it?"

"Half past seven. Why? You don't—" Hermione leapt out of the way as Harry tumbled through the newly made opening in the piles on his desk, grabbing his cloak and throwing it around himself upside-down on his way to the fireplace.

"I almost forgot, Ginny and I are meeting for dinner tonight."

"Ooh, where are you going?"

"She won't tell me. All I know is that we're meeting in Diagon Alley at 8. I don't know why, but she insisted on Muggle clothes. It's like it's some sort of surprise or something. I honestly don't know what she's up to," Harry sputtered hastily as he fastened his cloak with one hand while taking a generous handful of floo powder in the other.

"Could it be because today's your birthday?"

"What?" Harry stammered looking incredulously at her and then slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Oh Harry, only you could manage to forget your own birthday."

"Hey, there are 12 very good reasons for that and I don't like to talk about it," Harry shot back sarcastically.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I said anything," Hermione grinned, "but if you don't want to have a 13th reason you'd better put some of that floo powder back, unless you're planning on traveling to Jupiter tonight."

"Right." Harry threw half of the powder back toward the jar on the mantle (most of it falling onto the floor) and stepped back into the fireplace. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"As always. Shall I lock up then?" she asked as she waved her wand, sending the fallen powder to its rightful place.

"Thanks a bunch Hermione."

"Don't mention it. Say hi to Ginny for me."

"And you to Ron."

Hermione watched admiringly as Harry bellowed "Number Seven Godric Lane" and spun out of sight.


	2. Chapter 1: Paperwork and a Field Trip

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 1: Paperwork and a Field Trip  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry is still hopelessly behind on his paperwork and his assistant is cracking down. But an incident in Hogsmeade requires Harry's attention; an incident that, pleasantly enough, involves meeting up with old friends and visiting one of his favorite places.

* * *

Several months later, the scene in Harry's cluttered office had changed very little. Although he didn't always wear the look of someone who didn't get enough sleep anymore, his recent drop in working hours had not made him feel much better. Today he was running a good thirty minutes late as he walked briskly into the Department of Aurors, his hair unusually straight, as it was still wet.

"Good morning Harry," said a short, blonde haired witch as she rose from her chair, simultaneously reaching for a stack of loose papers and a large mug of coffee which was steaming at the edge of her desk.

"Good morning Kate," Harry responded pleasantly as he turned into his office. "Let's make this a light day shall we."

"And how much chance is there of that?"

"We'll see. What do you have for me?"

"Here are the morning's messages," she placed the stack of papers firmly into Harry's hand as though she had learned from experience that this was the best place for them. "There are a couple of memos from the Minister, just the usual stuff, nothing to worry about. A note from Mr. Weasley came over just before you arrived."

"Kate, I appreciate the need for formality but with the Weasleys you're going to have to use their first names."

"Of course, sorry, from Arthur Weasley. A Mr. Finnegan over in the office of Accidental Magical Reversal wanted some time this afternoon, I told him I'd need to check with you first. What's so funny?" she asked, as Harry had just snorted and smiled, shaking his head.

"Oh nothing, it's just I'd forgotten Seamus got that job. You see, if you'd have known him while we were at Hogwarts together you'd understand how ironic it is for him to be working as a reverser."

"Not so graceful with the wand?"

"You could say that. Yeah, I'll meet with him."

"Very good, I'll put him down for 3 o'clock then," she said as she flicked her wand in the general direction of her desk outside. "Here's your coffee."

"Thanks," Harry sipped gratefully. "So what's first today?"

"I cleared a bit of time first thing this morning for you to catch up on some filing," Kate responded as she began shuffling through the papers on Harry's desk, much to Harry's dismay. "Mr. Malfoy down in archives is itching to finish up the cataloguing of last quarter's closed case files… ugh… by the end of the week," she continued, yanking a stack of papers from the bottom of a pile with a grunt and flipping through them. "Yeah," she said with satisfaction, "you'll want to do these first. Be a dear and try to finish them off before your 10 o'clock or I might have to bump it too."

"Who's at 10?"

"Mrs. Creevey."

"No way, we're not bumping Luna again."

"Very well, I won't take up any more of your time then," said Kate skeptically as she reached for the door handle. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, thanks Kate."

Harry wasn't sure what was souring his good mood more, the thick pile of case reports he had in front of him, or the image of Draco Malfoy scolding him sanctimoniously about getting his paperwork done on time. Knowing better than to dwell on either thing, he reminded himself of the previous evening, and the reason he had been feeling so good in the first place, and set to work.

He had been making excellent progress when he was jolted out of his reverie by a loud clanging over his head. High above the fireplace was a row of brass bells, each of a different pitch. Hanging above each bell was a plaque labeling it with names like Dept. of Mysteries, Dept. of G&S, and even one rather new one labeled Hogwarts. Harry knew the sound of this particular bell well enough that he wouldn't have needed to look up to see the W.W.W. (H) inscribed above the well used bronze bell clanging above his head.

"Oh no, what've they done now?" Harry said to himself, checking his watch. "Damn" He was just reaching for his cloak as his door opened to reveal a forlorn looking Kate. "Kate it's 9:45. I've got most of them done. You can send these down." He shoved a pile of parchments into her hands. "Please apologize to Luna for me and reschedule her for first thing tomorrow. No, wait. Do I have a lunch today?"

"No, not yet."

"Have her meet me at The Leaky Cauldron at 12:30."

"Done. Harry was that the Weasley's b—"

"Sorry dear I've really got to dash."

"…ell?" she finished, unheard. "Sure, light day."

* * *

The sound of hundreds of voices carried lightly down the deserted alleyway. Harry was almost completely hidden when, with a nearly inaudible pop, he apparated into a small alcove. It was barely large enough to fit into without bumping his head. Any apparation instructor would have admonished Harry severely for choosing such a risky destination. Harry had witnessed first hand that tight spaces could lead to some rather unpleasant side effects when apparating. It took him twenty visits to discover the location and another ten to summon up the courage (and even a bit of his trademark self-assuredness) to try it. By now, he had it down to a science. Peeking around a corner briefly, Harry skulked down the alley toward the crowded street, peering about suspiciously and looking twice as suspicious himself.

As he neared the corner shop he slowed and lowered his head a bit. He had reached the rear entrance of a very crowded and colorful store. Hoping to have a look around undisturbed, (at least for a moment) he cautiously glanced inside. Satisfied he hadn't been noticed, he slowly turned the doorknob only to have it ripped from his grasp. "Harry m'boy, good to see you. And how are things with you?" George Weasley had seized Harry's hand, yanking him inside where he collided head first with a magenta-clad Fred.

"Cut the crap George. What's happened this time?" Harry retorted, with a futile attempt to straighten his hair.

"Would you listen to him, 'this time.' Seriously Harry it's never been our fault and you know it," responded Fred.

"Yeah, this is the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year," George added. "We wouldn't want to disrupt sales now would we?"

"Disrupt sales?" Harry replied glaring around at the swaths of Hogwarts students milling about the Weasley's newest corner joke shop, obviously looking for the source of the explosion they had heard minutes ago. "Right," Harry said skeptically as Fred and George exchanged a mischievous grin. "So, what happened?"

"Well, this kid, must've been about a fourth or fifth-year, was rummaging around here in the free samples," Fred indicated a large red container next to an oversized granite sales counter on which was emblazoned in vivid red and gold, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Since when do you give stuff away free? Except to me of course," Harry asked, peering into the tub upon which a large sign asked: Classes got you down? Try one of these for a bit of relief. Harry wondered with amusement what Fred and George considered "relief." Nevertheless he felt a bit calmer as he examined the contents of the barrel. Most of the things in here he recognized.

"New idea this year," replied George, running his hand through the tub of goodies. "The way we see it, the 5th years have got to be going mad by now with all the O.W.L. stuff they're studying for. We figured, give them a couple of freebies this time, they'll be clambering for more come next time.

"Anyway," continued Fred, "something rather unexpected happened." He brought out a charred feather quill and what looked like a small bit of unused, petrified chewing gum, still in its blackened wrapper. "From the looks of it, one of the smart answer quills pierced the second half of a Nosebleed Nougat. I had no idea anything like that would happen. Both of those have been in production for years, with a pretty solid track record. Hardly any complaints."

"Maybe the essence of murtlap caused the quill to backfire," George speculated.

"And with the murtlap's healing and restorative properties…" Fred countered, sinking into a rhythm with his twin.

"Yeah, and with those anti-anti-cheating charms in the quills."

"That makes sense. The murtlap must have gone right after that quill like a niffler in a Gringotts vault."

Harry chuckled. "See, aside from keeping you two out of some serious trouble, I love working these cases because you always do all the work for me." Harry reached into a pocket and extracted a large brown envelope that appeared to have a glistening, waterproof coating. Tapping each wrist with his wand, Harry's hands took on a similar appearance. "I'll just take these," he carefully took the burnt feather and what remained of the fossilized Skiving Snackbox, "and I'll have the lab look them over." Harry carefully slid each item into the envelope, sealed it magically with a tap from his wand, and slipped it neatly into an inside pocket.

"You know George, this gives me an idea." Fred quickly extracted a small notepad from his pocket and began scribbling frantically. George peered over his shoulder with interest.

"Of course. It would work perfectly as—"

"Yes, but we'd have to be careful about the—"

"Right, we'll need to know exactly what ratio…" George paused. "Say Harry, I don't suppose—"

"I'll bring you the test results and the uh, specimens," Harry patted the envelope underneath his robes, "as soon as I have a chance." Harry shook his head and smiled at the twins, both of them with a gleam of subdued excitement in their not so innocent eyes. "Besides, I figure your lab is twice as sophisticated as the Ministry's."

"Thanks a million Harry," George seized Harry's hand again, this time to shake it graciously.

Fred patted Harry on the back and steered him into the back room. "While you're here, why not have a look at some of our newest items."

"Yes, yes," said George excitedly. "These here are out on a preliminary release." He gestured to a glass display within which were various bottles and boxes, all in a dark, elegant blue design with a simple silver W set deep into the surface. The whole lot looked rather out of place in a joke shop.

"Since the WonderWitch line has done so well, we decided to look into a line of products aimed more at classy gentlemen such as yourself Harry. What do you think George? How about this one?" Fred flicked his wand and the glass vanished just long enough for him to extract a squatty bottle with a neatly etched golden stripe that swirled gracefully up to a heavy silver stopper.

"Yes, this would be most appropriate I think. Excellent choice my dear Fred."

"What is it?" asked Harry, noticing also that this case had a rare absence of price tags. He knew everything in it must be horribly expensive.

"Oh, just a simple aftershave, with a special Fred and George touch of course," answered Fred, placing the bottle in a velvet lined box and slipping it into a paper bag.

"Uh, I'm not so sure about this. How new is it? I don't know if I should—"

"Nonsense Harry. I'm sure Ginny will love it." Fred failed to fully conceal the wink he sent George's way as he placed the bag in Harry's hand and began scooting him out into the hustle and bustle of the shop. The noise made arguing much more difficult.

"Guys, you know better than this. Ginny hates your meddling. Maybe not as much as Ron's but still…"

"Our lips our sealed dear Harry. Don't say a word. Just let this little gift work it's magic. Oh, and do let us know what you think." George pontificated in his best salesman's voice.

"All right, maybe, but no promises," Harry said, running his hands over the cold stone of the front counter. "I like the new company seal." He indicated the glimmering logo on the counter. "This looks like Dean's work. Is he designing for you?"

"Indeed he is. Just hired him a couple of weeks ago. He really does some amazing stuff doesn't he? That bottle you have there is his design you know."

"Well… Thanks for this." Harry held up the bag. "The student went up to the Hospital Wing I presume?"

"Yes. Hagrid happened to be passing by when it happened so he took him straight off to the school. I'm not sure if he was knocked unconscious or not," Fred smiled. "Risky business you know."

"I'll see you soon then," Harry said as he reached for the front door this time.

"Indeed," replied George.

"So long Harry," called Fred.

"Kiss Ginny for us!" they sang together as the door slammed shut. Harry glared fire at them as he turned up the road toward Hogwarts.

"Whoa!" said George looking at Fred. "Looks like he's picking up a few tricks from Ginny."

* * *

The cool mountain air and lush landscape enveloped Harry's senses as he gazed about one of his favorite places of all. The ancient majesty of Hogwarts Castle gleamed with a combination of rugged history and renewed energy. Harry pondered the perfect relationship of old and new that existed in this place. There was a magic here that went far beyond the tangible forms taught every day within its walls.

There was a peaceful sense of rebirth around Hogwarts these days. Ever since the fall of Voldemort, the entire wizarding world had been healing and Hogwarts was no exception. Harry could see a few of the older students off in the distance following the familiar form of Professor Sprout across the grounds. Harry figured they must be some of the Herbology N.E.W.T. students getting some extra lessons in on the weekend. Many of the usual classes in the greenhouses were now being held throughout the grounds as the students helped bring new life to the foliage surrounding the castle. This group appeared to be heading toward the forest.

The section of forest nearest Harry was completely different than it had been during his years at Hogwarts. The towering trees that once stood there were now replaced by thousands of young saplings. Various bushes and weeds had nearly obscured the few remaining glimpses of charred stumps and logs; the only lingering evidence of so many towering trees destroyed during the final moments of the Great War. Farther on, around the lake, the surviving sections of the once vast forest hearkened back to the sinister darkness that once beheld these woods. The Forbidden Forest wasn't forbidden at all anymore, one of the bittersweet rewards of all that terrible destruction.

Harry waved distantly to Professor Sprout as he walked toward the castle. He was just close enough for her to recognize him and nod her head in acknowledgement, but he knew to give plenty of space as he passed by. She didn't need the disruption that surely would have ensued if any of her students realized that Harry Potter had arrived.

It was one of those things that would frustrate Harry to the end of time. If he had assumed that his celebrity was a nuisance before Voldemort's fall, he surely could not have comprehended the fame he had gained since then. The boy who lived had become the man who lived, and one of the only wizards in all of history to achieve such legendary status while still alive to witness it. Harry knew of only one other such man.

As he approached the castle, he turned, not toward the giant front doors, but instead in the direction of the lake. He smiled as the giant squid enjoyed one of its last few days of warm weather before descending into the great, dark depths of its home for the winter. Harry's heart skipped a beat as his gaze wandered to the quidditch pitch. He watched for a moment as he saw yellow colored robes darting in and out of sight between the stands. Finally his gaze turned to the edge of the lake and his mood darkened.

The tomb looked as though it had been there for hundreds of years, but the brilliance of its whiteness had never faded. Like Hogwarts itself, Dumbledore's final resting place was truly timeless.

Harry did not come here to grieve. That had happened long ago, it seemed to have been ages. As hard as it was at the time, Harry had finally accepted Dumbledore's death, but his devotion to the great wizard had never wavered. As he walked around the tomb he brushed his hand along its smooth, hard surface. The stone was slightly warm in the autumn sunlight. As Harry paid his silent tribute a feeling of determination filled him. The feeling would never get old and it always invigorated him. Just then, an ever so gentle brush of a hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie.

"How are you Harry?" said a gentle, familiar voice.

"I'm alright," Harry responded. "How are you Luna? Oh no! What time is it? I'm so sorry, I must have lost track of the time."

"It's okay Harry, it's only 11:30. Your assistant told me where you'd gone so I decided to pay a visit myself. It is great here isn't it?"

"Yes. I should come here more often."

"Indeed. It seems strange though, to visit someone's burial site. Do you think it's wise to dwell on the past like this Harry?"

"Don't say that," Harry snapped coldly, turning away and staring at the tomb. A few silent seconds passed before Luna spoke again.

"Harry, that was very thoughtless of me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's alright. It's just that, Dumbledore and I had a kind of special understanding. I'm just doing my part to keep his legacy alive. You know it's been six years since he died. The students here hardly know who he is anymore. Only the 7th years were here while he was still headmaster, and he wasn't around very much that year anyway. I guess, the way I see it, coming here is kind of my gift to these students. As long as there are people here who are loyal to Dumbledore he will never truly be gone."

"Harry, you put too much burden on yourself. I don't think Dumbledore will soon be forgotten. Don't forget how many others have stood beside you and are now just as loyal to you as people were to Dumbledore. I think Dumbledore would agree that counts for a lot."

"I suppose you're right," Harry mused. "Anyway, we can still catch lunch if you want. I just have to visit the hospital wing first. There was a little mishap down at Fred and George's shop and I need to make sure no permanent damage was done. Would you care to join me?"

"Certainly. I haven't been in the castle in ages. Let me just call Colin, he's waiting down at The Three Broomsticks. You don't mind if he joins us as well?"

"No, by all means," Harry replied. Luna drew her wand from behind her ear and sent a tiny, silvery, twittering owl off in the direction of Hogsmeade. "Very good then. Shall we?" Harry offered Luna his arm and they set off toward the castle.

* * *

"Peeves, you come down from there this instant!" The deafening shriek and blood-curdling stare of Professor McGonagall was enough to instill fear into even the most troublesome of students, but poltergeists are generally unfazed by authority. While usually quite harmless, they have always found the most inconvenient times and unfortunate methods for practical joking. Peeves, was surely their champion.

Harry, Luna and Colin looked on in amusement as they came into the grand entrance hall only to see their old Transfiguration teacher standing helplessly atop the first floor landing, shaking a forbidding finger toward the rafters. While they couldn't see anything, they never gave old McGonagall's sanity a second thought. Peeves was up there somewhere.

It was mostly out of instinct that Harry directed his wand toward the ceiling. A silvery ghost-like form shot upward and out of sight. Professor McGonagall looked around to see where it had come from, fully prepared to scold whichever student dared use magic in the hallways. Before she even had time to register the three familiar faces she saw smiling up at her, a brilliant streak of poltergeist came shooting down from the darkened rafters, screaming at the top of his lungs "So sorry, your bloodiness! PLEEEESE..." as he shot through the entrance hall and down the stairway toward the dungeons, his screeches slowly echoing into silence. Suddenly the door to the Great Hall opened with a creak and a furl of pitch-black robes whipped into sight.

"Well, well, well. Harry Potter. Up to no good as usual I see. Can't keep that wand out of other people's business can you?"

"Don't be ridiculous Severus," Professor McGonagall cut in before Harry could respond as she stepped quickly down the grand staircase. "Or perhaps you've forgotten he's no longer your student."

"Well now Minerva, I don't think any of us here would really believe I could forget something like that," Snape replied, never taking his eyes off of Harry's.

"Indeed," Harry scowled.

Snape narrowed his eyes and nodded curtly before turning his gaze to McGonagall. "Now then, unless I am very much mistaken, I believe I heard the notorious Peeves disrupting things as usual. I thought you might be in need of some assistance."

"I believe Harry here beat you to the punch Severus, but thank you for the offer," Professor McGonagall nodded just as curtly to Snape. "Now Harry, I think I'm guessing correctly that you are here about our young Mr. Gaston. Come along now, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has him all patched up." The four of them turned to the stairs, leaving behind them a thoroughly disgruntled potions master. "Luna, Colin, it's wonderful to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure? Surely the press hasn't heard what's happened already."

"Only just now that Harry has told us," Luna replied with dignity. "I was meeting with Harry today for an interview. The Quibbler has wanted a good profile of the Ministry's top Auror for some time now. You don't mind if I include some of this in the report do you Harry?" she continued, scribbling some notes on a small roll of parchment. "It would be great to have some bits about the man at work, do you know what I mean?"

"We'll have to see. I can't make any promises yet, but I don't think we'll have any containment issues. The whole continent must know of Fred and George's antics by now."

"That's for sure," piped up Colin as he surreptitiously snapped a photo of Harry rounding a corner. Colin Creevey darted around with the same energy and enthusiasm (although with much more tact and subtlety) that he had shown when Harry had first met him. He was a good six inches shorter than Luna, making them a very unusual looking couple, which, of course, was a perfect fit. These days they had become one of the most recognized journalist and photographer teams in all of Britain. The Daily Prophet had even started running some of their more "mainstream" reporting.

"Headmistress, what exactly was Peeves doing up there anyway?" asked Harry.

"Oh, he's been making some "adjustments" to the support beams. The other day he slid one right out of place. The whole castle shook and all of the staircases got stuck mid-change right in the middle of lunch break. Everyone was stranded. We had to cancel the rest of the day's lessons before we could sort everything out."

"Harry, was that a patronus you sent after Peeves?" asked Luna still scribbling. "I thought your patronus was a stag?"

"It is. That was a patronus charm, sort of, but I mixed in a bit of transfiguration to make it look like the Bloody Baron. I figured it would be faster than tracking down the Barron himself."

"That's very clever. You used two spells at the same time?"

"Nearly, I got the patronus started and then transfigured it before it could fully form. If you get the timing just right, the patronus is in a very pliable state and can be reshaped to a certain extent. The only side effect is that it looses any of its potency as a patronus, so it just ends up being a ghostly image."

"That's quite something. It would make a fun little special interest story for the Self Help Spells section don't you think Colin?"

"Sounds great," Colin snapped another picture as they stopped in front of the Hospital Wing.

"I think Harry and I should go in alone first, just to see how things are. I hope you don't mind waiting," said Professor McGonagall as she knocked softly on the door.

"No, not at all. We'll be right here."

"I'll ask him if you can come in and talk a bit," said Harry. "It might be a good distraction for him, getting his name in the paper."

They could hear footsteps approaching and the door opened slightly as the watchful eye of the Hogwarts nurse, Madam Pomfrey, peered out at Harry and the Headmistress. "Good morning Poppy," said Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter here would like to have a word with Mr. Gaston if he's up to it."

"I suppose that would be alright. He just woke up a few minutes ago. This is ministry business I presume Harry?"

"Unofficially. It's only a ministry issue if it needs to be. I'm hoping to avoid that."

"Aren't we all? Very well then, in you come. You've been in here enough, I suppose I don't have to take you through the routine do I."

"I don't think so."

"Very good. He's just down there, third bed on the left. Headmistress, may I have a word?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling, which for him was the most familiar part of the Hospital Wing. He remembered staring at it for countless hours. Probably the most vivid memory was the nearly sleepless night he had spent regrowing the bones in his right arm.

"Mr. Gaston?" Harry said softly as he approached the edge of the bed. "I'm here from the Ministry. I'd just like to ask you a couple of questions if that's alright."

"Hang on," replied a scratchy voice. A bruised hand reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, which had been resting on an open book Harry thought he recognized. Sitting up, the fifteen-year-old rubbed his eyes, wincing as he touched a gash along his left eyebrow. Other than a few bruises and scrapes and a small patch of singed brown hair, he didn't look much the worse for wear. Harry took a moment to look around as the boy adjusted his glasses. The first thing he noticed was the green crest on the robes hanging beside the bed. Also on the bedside table was a short hickory wand along with a few sweets and what looked like a trick quill. Well, at least he didn't leave Fred and George's with nothing, thought Harry.

"How are you feeling?" asked Harry.

"Better. Hey, you're Harry Potter."

"I know."

"But, why would you be here? You're still an Auror aren't you?"

"Yes, well, normally this would fall outside the realm of my duties but I handle most things having to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," said Harry as he looked over Madam Pomfrey's notes.

"Yeah, I suppose those two would need a little extra supervision. Their stuff's a lot of fun though. They're not mad at me are they?"

"I don't think so. We're pretty sure we figured out what happened and it wasn't your fault, just an accident. Your name's Carl then?"

"Yep."

"Very good. Can you tell me what happened from your point of view?"

"Well, it all happened rather fast. I was looking through the free samples. I had already taken that trick quill over there and I was digging around to see what else I could find. All of a sudden Mr. Weasley, I don't know which one, came over and yelled at me to take only one. I didn't want any trouble you know, so I just dropped what I had in my hand. Next thing I know I'm in here. It's frustrating. I hadn't been to the hospital wing yet and I was hoping I'd be able to avoid it altogether."

"Well, I may not be the best person to talk to about it, but I'd say that hope is a bit far fetched around Hogwarts. If you don't end up in here a couple of times, I figure you haven't learned anything."

"Yeah, I suppose so. Say, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm still kind of tired. Do you need anything else?"

"Well, there was one other… No. Never mind. Don't worry about it. You're a fifth-year right."

"Yeah."

"Keep up the studying. You'll never know how important your O.W.L. year is 'till it's too late."

"Okay."

"If you think of anything else, please let me know. Professor McGonagall can get a hold of me pretty easily. Thanks for your time." Harry began to walk away.

"Mr. Potter?" Carl called after him.

"Yes?"

"Can I…could I…would you mind terribly if…"

"Yes Mr. Gaston?"

"Never mind. It was good to meet you."

"You too." And before he could say anything else, Carl had drifted back to sleep.

Harry silently moved around to the bedside table. He carefully removed the boy's glasses and set them gently on the table next to the familiar book. Flipping the book closed, Harry nodded to himself as he scanned the cover, Triumph over Evil: The Fall of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters by H. J. Granger. Harry turned to a specific page near the end and reached for a quill from his pocket. Quietly he scratched his name in the margin and placed the book underneath the boy's glasses before turning silently and slipping out the door. 


	3. Chapter 2: Happy Anniversary

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chater 2: Happy Anniversary  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Halloween is a different kind of holiday now. Harry takes a weekend to enjoy the company of his favorite adopted family to celebrate the day. But before the night is over, long lost memories resurface to haunt him... and help him.

* * *

"Harry, would you hurry up! We're going to be late," bellowed Ron, staring anxiously out the front window of Harry's modest house. 

"I'll be right there, keep your shirt on."

"Mum wanted us there at exactly 5 o'clock."

"Alright. I'm ready, I'm ready." Harry emerged from the bathroom wearing a handsome set forest-green robes that were so perfectly pressed, Ron knew he must have spent hours ironing them. "Since when are you Mr. Punctuality anyway?"

"Since I started going with Hermione, that's when," chided Ron, who was wearing a nice set of robes in a deep burgundy red.

"Hey, nice maroon," joked Harry, lifting up an edge of Ron's robes as if to feel the material, then quickly stepping out of Ron's reach.

"They're not maroon!" Ron shot back, narrowly missing Harry's shoulder with his fist. "Can we finally go now? I've been here for nearly half an hour," he grumbled at Harry.

"Hey, it's a special day. I had to make sure everything was… you know," Harry said, locking his front door and walking out into the crisp autumn air.

"Why do you insist on using that Muggle iron for your clothes anyway? Magic would be much faster you know."

"Ginny can tell. She likes it when I put extra effort into things."

Ron rolled his eyes as they climbed into Harry's car and set off down the road. Ron looked as though he might say something but thought better of it. Harry knew what he was thinking. They had argued about it more times than he could remember, but Harry had held firm. He didn't much care for the idea of simply popping up in the Weasley's fireplace, expected or not, and even with his level of experience and proficiency, Harry disliked Apparating almost as much now as he had when he had first done it with Dumbledore. He thought it might be a lingering remnant of his Muggle-bound childhood that made magical transport seem almost boring sometimes. One fact was for sure, he very much enjoyed driving.

"Godric's Hollow is so great this time of year. Don't you think?" said Harry, inhaling deeply through his open window.

"Sure." Ron regarded the quaint houses as they drove past. The foliage on the trees had littered the gardens with a blanket of multicolored leaves. Smoke rose from the various chimneys poking up here and there and Ron longed for the warmth of his mother's kitchen. "Say Harry, would you mind rolling up the window. It's nearly November you know."

"Sure," Harry responded, twiddling the handle automatically. "I think this is going to be a great weekend don't you?"

"Yeah," Ron replied noncommittally.

"Do you know if Bill and Charlie managed to work it out so they could come too?" Harry asked as they left town and picked up speed.

"I haven't heard anything yet. Maybe."

"I hope so. We haven't seen them in, I dunno, how long?"

"Harry?" Ron said tentatively.

"What?" Harry asked narrowing his eyes quizzically at his best friend.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, in case you've forgotten, we tried this last year and… well nobody blames you Harry. It's an awful lot to deal with so soon after it all happened."

"Don't worry about it. I admit, it was too early last year, but a year is a long time. Trust me. Everything will be fine." Harry fiddled with the air vents and stared resolutely ahead. Ron watched his best friend for a moment in silence, wondering yet again, what was going on underneath that mess of jet-black hair.

"Okay," Ron said after the silence became too awkward, "but if you start to feel weird again and you want to get away, I'm sure everyone will understand."

"I appreciate that, but it won't be necessary." Harry closed his eyes for a dangerously long few seconds, considering he was driving. When they opened again he set his face firmly and put on a relatively convincing smile. "Let's just forget about it and enjoy the weekend. Cheer up. You don't want to be all grouchy when we arrive. We're nearly there now."

Ron looked up incredulously as the landscape became more and more familiar. He had spent so much of the ride concentrating on Harry that he had no idea what was going on outside. "You know, I've seen Ministry drivers cut around Muggle cars without being noticed, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone that can drive so fast on top of it. Last time I tried this I nearly ran over some bloke walking his dog."

"It just takes practice. You have to really know the car," Harry responded. He sat comfortably with one hand on the wheel, easing into his good mood, however forced it might have been. After a moment he tapped the brakes and turned lightly onto a dusty country road. Slowing to savor the moment, Harry gazed distantly through the window at the very distinct image of the Burrow. Even with a few newer additions to the hodge-podge of rooms that were magically glued together, it still held the same wonderful charm it had when Harry had first encountered it ten years before. "You know. I'll never get tired of seeing that," said Harry breathlessly.

"Me neither!" Ron said distractedly, staring directly ahead at a familiar form that was running toward them as Harry parked the car.

"The house Ron," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"Huh…? Oh, right, the house, yeah, great." Ron replied automatically as he got out of the car just in time for Hermione to smother him in a tight embrace.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said with amusement, pocketing his keys.

"Oh. Hi Harry, It's good to see you," Hermione replied with a dignified blush. "Ginny's upstairs getting ready. She might be done by now. Those robes look really great on you by the way. Ouch Ronald, stop that. I didn't mean it that way."

"Thanks Hermione, Ginny gave them to me for my birthday. I haven't had an occasion to wear them 'till now," Harry smiled at his two best friends. "I'll leave you two to get reacquainted, it must have been at least two days since you've seen each other."

"Shut up Harry," Ron called after him as Harry turned toward the house. The familiar form of Mrs. Weasley waved from the window and yelled something over her shoulder as he approached. Harry smiled happily as he waved back. Her persistent good cheer gave him the feeling that tonight's festivities were just what he needed to clear his mind. Just as he neared the front door it opened and out stepped Ginny, wearing robes of beautiful, pale-blue satin, which magnificently intensified the color of her vibrant red hair. Around her neck was a simple sliver chain with a glimmering, green peridot gem hanging in the center.

"Looks like we had the same idea," Harry smiled embracing her tightly. "You look very nice tonight."

"So do you handsome. Thank you again for the necklace, and those robes do look quite smashing on you."

"Well, the person who picked them out had excellent taste, I must say," Harry said in a dignified voice, inclining his head formally.

"You should really thank that person," Ginny said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, if you insist." Harry leaned in and kissed her.

"Well," said Ginny a few seconds later, fanning her face with her hand. "You're very welcome Mr. Potter."

"Don't you 'Mr. Potter' me," Harry laughed, ruffling her hair.

"Harry, don't," Ginny screamed running into the house, Harry hot on her trail. "No… Harry please, I spent half an hour getting it like this."

"I don't care if it's messed up," Harry chased her up the stairs.

"Well, I do." Ginny giggled, slapping his hands away as they rounded the first landing.

"Hey, you two, dinner's almost ready," Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs. "Ask the boys to come down please and then we can get started…" she paused for a moment, hands on her hips. "OKAY?" she bellowed.

"All right Mrs. Weasley, we'll be right down," Harry called down the stairs between fits of laughter. "Ouch, that hurt."

"Serves you right," Ginny shot back, turning into her bedroom. "You go call Fred and George while I fix this mess you've made," she commanded and shut the door with a snap.

"It's a very pretty mess," Harry called through the door, causing Ginny to giggle in spite of herself. With a satisfied smirk, Harry turned up the stairs. Things looked slightly different with the modifications that had been done since Harry had last been here. Ron's old room was still at the very top of the house, but it was much bigger now; all the more room for his orange Chudley Cannon's posters, which were much less tattered than they had been in the past. Harry glanced around, noticing a spare bed on the far side of the room, already made up and ready for him. Turning back to the door he saw a poster on which several orange clad Quidditch players zoomed about while, below them, an equally orange Ron stood bellowing silently up at the players.

Shaking his head, he turned back down the stairs, stopping by Fred and George's old room and knocking lightly on the door, causing a loud clatter at the sudden interruption. "What is it?" one of the twins called, sounding rather startled.

"Dinner's ready," Harry said smirking and shaking his head. There were several quick footsteps and the door opened wide enough for a face to appear.

"It is Harry!" Fred called back to his twin enthusiastically.

"The one and only," Harry said, bowing deeply.

"Great, tell mum we'll be right down. Won't be a tick."

When Harry turned into the kitchen he was shocked to find it empty. The familiar scrubbed wood table was gone and Mrs. Weasley, with her multitude of steaming pots, was nowhere in sight.

"Where'd everybody go?" Harry said in confusion.

"Oh, we're back here dear," Mrs. Weasley called Harry over as she came in from the other side of the room to retrieve a basket of bread from the oven. "Arthur added a dining room last month. Come see!"

Through the new opening in the wall, Harry could see two tables arranged along a nicely appointed, oval-shaped dining room. Upon entering the room he noticed there were windows almost all the way around the room, which offered a stunning view of the hills around the Burrow. To compliment the beauty of the setting, dishes full of steaming food sat, wafting amazing scents into the air, and Harry was instantly starving. Taking a seat next to Mr. Weasley, Harry could hardly wait to get started.

"Harry, how are you these days? Not too busy I hope?" said Mr. Weasley, folding up his copy of the Evening Prophet and stashing it on a small buffet behind his seat.

"Not too busy, no. I've been trying to cut back a little," Harry responded casually as he carefully positioned his napkin to best protect his new dress robes. "We're still pretty well staffed, of course, so there are plenty of people to cover everything."

"Right you are. Must have been quite a party there today eh Harry?"

"Yeah. We didn't get a whole lot done. Those guys really deserve it though." Harry fiddled with his glass distractedly. "Can you believe it's been two years?"

"It's hard to imagine, after so much darkness… It really was a great day, for all of us, you especially Harry."

"Well…" Harry waved his hand dismissively. "I never would have done it alone. We must have had the entire Ministry there that night." Just then Ron and Hermione came in and sat down across from Harry.

"Great, food. I'm starving. Where's the wine?"

"Slow down Ronald, not everybody's here yet," admonished Hermione, reclaiming her glass from his eager grip and directing him to his own.

"Hello all," called Fred and George as they sat down beside Ron.

"Did Bill and Charlie make it?" asked Harry.

"I'm afraid not, Harry. They send you their best," said Mr. Weasley.

"Looks like Percy's here early," called Fred, pointing outside.

"Really? He said he wouldn't be able to make it 'till tomorrow," said Mrs. Weasley waving out the window. Percy saw the gathering at the table and began to trot faster toward the house. "Where has Ginny gone to anyway?"

"Still upstairs probably," said Harry. Suddenly a scream floated in from the kitchen. "Guess not." Fred and George laughed appreciatively. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"Hello little sis, how are you?" They could hear Percy's voice from the other room as the front door slammed.

"You're early! Oh, it's so good to see you," came Ginny's excited voice. "Here, just put your things over there, mum's got dinner ready."

"Greetings!" called Percy as he followed his sister into the dining room, holding one arm up ceremoniously and looking around at everyone as they greeted him all at once. Fred and George, who were closest, each took Percy's hand in turn and shook it vigorously.

"Percy, absolutely marvelous to see you old boy," said Fred pompously.

"M,yes absolutely spiffing," said George in his best Winston Churchill impression. Mr. Weasley laughed out loud. His love for everything Muggle related had recently turned to historical figures.

"It's great to see you guys too," said Percy laughing and sitting down next to Ginny, who had taken the seat next to Harry.

"How's Charlotte?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she took the remaining seat, next to Hermione.

"Mother, we live in Raleigh," Percy corrected her.

"Your wife Percy!" she said shaking her head.

"Oh, right, Char. She's doing very well… sends you her love of course," he said to the group.

"It's too bad she couldn't make it," Mr. Weasley mused.

"Well she's working overtime at the hospital right now. They're opening a new wing on Monday."

"That's wonderful. Tell her congratulations for us."

"I will."

"Well, everybody, dig in," Mrs. Weasley said with great satisfaction.

For hours they all talked and ate and drank and laughed. Harry was feeling completely at ease, enjoying the company of his adoptive family. Mr. Weasley sat comfortably back in his chair, allowing others to drive the conversation as usual and interjecting his own opinion where it was warranted. Mrs. Weasley was in her element, forcing extra helpings on everybody until they begged for mercy. Ginny probed Percy for stories of life in the U.S., which turned out to be much more interesting than the dry conversation he usually brought to the table. Fred and George lightened the mood as they regaled them all with the latest mayhem at the joke shops. Harry watched with amusement as Ron and Hermione argued over a new book she was writing. Ginny would occasionally sit in silence, leaning dreamily up against Harry's shoulder as he conversed with the rest of the family. Voldemort's existence seemed a very long time ago as they carried on late into the night. Before any of them knew it, the clock chimed nine, and Mrs. Weasley nearly knocked Fred out of his seat as she leaped up.

"Oh, my is it that late already. Arthur, help me, quickly," she ordered frantically. "We've only got a few minutes."

Moments later everybody was standing in the living room, holding champagne glasses.

"First of all," Mr. Weasley spoke to the room, "I want to thank you all for being here on this extra special evening. By some amount of luck or fate we find ourselves recognizing a number of important events on this day every year. Thirty-four years ago today, Molly and I were married." The whole room applauded. "Thank you, thank you. Unfortunately, this day was not always a happy one. We also remember fondly, two of the most wonderful people Molly and I ever had the pleasure of knowing. We honor the memories of Lily and James Potter on this, the day they were brutally murdered twenty-one years ago." Ron and Hermione each reached over and squeezed Harry's shoulder gently and Ginny held his hand tightly. Harry nodded appreciatively at the loving faces surrounding him as a silent tear rolled down his cheek.

After a brief pause Mr. Weasley continued, "On that same day, Voldemort changed the course of history forever when he cursed Harry, and set in action a course of events that would change all of our lives. Ultimately, we now know, Voldemort's decision was his undoing. And so, lastly, we rejoice amongst ourselves, and indeed alongside all wizard kind as we celebrate the second anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat, and the end of the Great War."

The room grew silent as everyone looked anxiously at the clock, which now read: 9:17. Harry, who had kept his eyes closed for most of Mr. Weasley's speech, began to feel a bit light-headed and swayed slightly on his feet. "Are you alright Harry?" Ginny whispered. Harry nodded silently, steeling himself, determined to hold strong.

After what felt like days, the clock finally twitched and, with its own sense of anticipation, slowly turned over to 9:18. Loud bangs and whistles rang out in every direction. Through the windows they all could see a dazzling color display as several dozen of Fred and George's Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs ignited with tremendous energy. With a cacophony of clinking glass, everybody drank with great satisfaction.

Harry didn't know what was happening. As he and Ginny kissed in celebration his vision became fuzzy and he stumbled over to the couch, leaning on it for support. "Harry? Harry what's wrong?" Ginny said with an increasing sound of panic in her voice. "Everybody back up, give him room!" she bellowed, getting everyone's attention. They all backed away slowly, looking on with startled expressions as Ginny helped Harry into a chair. "My god, Harry, you're all pale and clammy. Harry, talk to me. I'm right here. I'm right here. Harry I love you so much, I love you so much…"

* * *

"…I love you so much, I love you so much," Ginny's voice echoed in Harry's head as a thousand memories cascaded into his consciousness. He saw her looking at him. Terror was in her tearful eyes. She looked different somehow. Her mouth was moving frantically but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He listened harder. 

_Harry, please don't go. You can't. I won't let you._

Harry heard his own voice distantly, as if from another world.

_I have to Ginny. Everything will be all right. Please don't make this harder than it already is. You have to trust me. Harry saw himself holding Ginny's hand. I have to do this Ginny._

_NOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

Ginny's scream seared into Harry's head and his scar burned as she collapsed, sobbing into his arms. He could still hear her pleading voice echoing in the distance. Slowly her image and her voice faded into nothing and everything went black.

Harry was looking out over a vast sea of bright orange flames. Screams drifted from every direction as the multicolored lights of spells glanced this way and that. Occasionally, loud explosions echoed across the vast landscape below him. He was leaning against a stone wall, looking over it, panting, looking down. Suddenly a bright flash illuminated a large lake in the distance and Harry knew where he was. This must be the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts. Harry wanted to look around, but he was somehow paralyzed. He couldn't move. He simply stared ahead as the flaming trees below him burned high into the sky. He could feel the heat on his face.

There was a noise behind him and a hollow, high-pitched laugh soared into the night sky, filling Harry simultaneously with terror and rage. Harry wanted to turn, to confront, to fight. But he couldn't move. He screamed but no sound came out. Suddenly the high-pitched voice bellowed and everything was filled with a bright green light. Harry felt as though a hot poker had stabbed him in the back. His forehead screamed in agony. A brilliant surge of energy filled his body and he felt as though he might explode. He heard screaming in his head. It was the memory of his mother's scream he had become so painfully familiar with. But there was another voice. He couldn't concentrate on it long enough. It was familiar, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard it before. The scorching pain moved through his body, from the scar on his forehead, to the burning spot on his back. The high-pitched voice behind him was laughing, higher and higher.

No, it wasn't laughing at all. It was screaming too. Harry felt he would go deaf from the piercing sound. With all his might he pushed against the stone. Finally facing his fate, he saw a brilliant white light, too bright to look at. The screaming was agonizing. He could no longer bear the sound. A sudden blast knocked him back into the wall and the screaming was gone. In the sudden silence, a dark figure floated briefly in the distance and tumbled off of the battlements and out of sight. The floor beneath Harry trembled and the sky above him glowed bright red. The pain in Harry's body seemed to melt away as a distant, haunting cry echoed across the land. It was the most beautiful sound Harry had ever heard. Slowly, gently, his consciousness faded, until he could see, and hear, and feel no more.

* * *

"My god, what have we done?" 

"Harry?"

"Here, put this on his forehead."

"Harry! Harry please, answer me."

Harry couldn't breathe. He could feel cool water dripping down his face. He could feel Ginny squeezing his hand. Summoning all of his strength, he opened his eyes. With a gasping breath he felt cold air fill his lungs and he began coughing uncontrollably.

"Turn him over."

He felt hands pulling him up, hands turning him around, hands slapping his back. Suddenly, he rose to his feet and ran from the room. He made it to the bathroom just in time and retched, over and over again. His stomach and his lungs heaving, he leaned there, panting and coughing. The pain on his forehead was now matched by an equally intense one on his back.

"Harry," called Ginny's voice. "Are you alright?" He tried to speak but only raspy air came out. He nodded instead. Cautiously he turned and walked gingerly back toward the living room. Ginny walked slowly alongside him and reached out, placing her arm around him. He winced in pain as she brushed over the tender spot along his back. "What's wrong? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you. What is it?" She pulled his robes back and lifted up his shirt to see what had caused him to flinch, and let out a sudden, frightened gasp. Hermione and Ron quickly ran over to look. Hermione failed to silence her yelp, Ron simply stood there, too stunned to speak.

"Oh Harry. Why didn't you ever say anything?" asked Hermione.

Harry regained his voice. "Say anything about what?"

"The scar on your back."

"What scar?"

"There's a lightning shaped scar on your back mate, just like the one on your forehead," Ron stammered.

"Hang on," Ginny ran up the stairs quickly and returned seconds later with a handheld mirror. "Come over here Harry." Ginny pulled Harry over to a large mirror hanging on the far wall. "See for yourself," she said, handing him the mirror and holding up his shirt for him. There it was, just below his left shoulder blade. It was almost identical to the one on his forehead except this scar was slightly smaller. Both were burning bright red.

Harry didn't speak for a long time. Stunned, he walked slowly over to the couch and slumped down into it. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley simply stood, looking worried. Somehow they knew it was best to let Harry's friends handle this; after all, they had helped Harry in similar situations in the past. The Weasley's and Hermione watched patiently as Harry collected his thoughts. Ginny came and sat beside him, holding his hand. The sensation brought Harry out of his reverie and, finally, he spoke. "You know how I told you all that I couldn't remember anything that happened up in the Astronomy tower with Voldemort?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "You said the last thing you could remember was a sort of déjà vu feeling and you just knew to run up there."

"Yeah, I didn't have any idea why, but somehow, I knew that's what I was supposed to do."

"We remember Harry," said Hermione patiently.

"Wow, I guess, whatever that was just then… I guess I just remembered it all. It was like a vision, or a dream."

"What happened Harry?" asked Ginny.

Harry recalled everything to them, from the burning forest, to the high-pitched laughing and screaming, to the phoenix song he heard just before he blacked out. It seemed to take a very long time. When he was done they all sat there in silence. Distantly, Harry noticed the fireworks still banging away outside.

"So, I guess that explains the scar then." Harry swallowed hard as Ginny fussed over him, pulling stray hairs back away from his face. "Voldemort tried to kill me twice. Both times it didn't work, both times it left a scar. I guess the one on my back was there all along. It's just in such an awkward place I never noticed it before."

"How does it feel, Harry?" Ginny asked tenderly.

"Better." Harry reached and felt along his back. "It isn't so sensitive now. What I don't understand is…" Harry looked down at the floor and the room waited in patient silence. After a few minutes of thought, Harry shook his head in defeat. Whatever he was trying to work out was obviously lost.

"Well, it's late. Maybe we all should get some rest. I think Harry especially could use some," said Mrs. Weasley, sensing a need to break the tension.

"What time is it?" asked Harry, standing up.

"About ten after midnight," said Percy.

"Hey dad," said Ginny. "There's another anniversary we can celebrate, now that it's tomorrow… or today, or… you know what I mean," she stammered.

"What's that dear?" Mr. Weasley smiled wearily.

"This is Harry's and my two year anniversary. He asked me out the day after all that happened."

"That is cause for celebration," said Percy. "Congratulations you two."

"Thanks," Harry replied meekly. "You all are really the best friends a guy could ask for," he said shaking Ron's hand. "You're all so great to me." He kissed Hermione on the cheek. "I'm sorry. It's been a hard night. I think I will have to turn in. Thank you for the wonderful dinner Mrs. Weasley." He hugged Mrs. Weasley and shook Mr. Weasley's hand. "I'll see you all in the morning." Harry shook the hands of Fred, George, and Percy as he made his way to the stairs.

"Sleep well dear. I'll have breakfast for you whenever you wake up. Sleep as long as you like." called Mrs. Weasley. Harry smiled and turned up the stairs, closely followed by Ginny.

After Harry had dressed in his pajamas in Ron's bathroom, he turned to Ginny and kissed her gently. Smiling, she reached over and turned down his sheets. Harry slid into the cozy bed gratefully as Ginny leaned over and tucked him in, placing his glasses on the nightstand.

"You're hair's all messed up you know," Harry said softly.

She smiled and kissed him silently on his forehead. He was asleep before she had even closed the door.

* * *

The smell of bacon wafted up to Harry's nose as a light breeze tickled the curtains in the window. The sun was shining in and Harry couldn't believe the feeling inside of him. It was like a kind of finality that he had never experienced before. Two years ago, when people had told him Voldemort was dead, Harry really thought he would feel a sense of relief, but that relief had never come, at least until now. Now, he thought he had never before in his life known what happiness truly felt like. 

Harry heard a creak and looked up, seeing a blurry figure in the doorway. "You're up!" Ginny said happily as she bounced over to his bedside. "How are you feeling?" she asked, brushing her fingers lightly on his forehead. Harry absently reached for his glasses and slipped them on.

"I've never felt like this before," He said, stretching and sitting up against the headboard. Ginny sat next to him and took his hand. "It's like I've been carrying around this burden for my entire life and I never fully knew it was there. Now it's just, gone. I feel like I could fly."

"I'm glad. You look like it too." Ginny smiled at him and kissed him softly. "Happy anniversary Harry."

"Happy anniversary to y—" Harry suddenly leapt out of bed, leaving Ginny looking bewildered as she stood and turned to face him.

"Harry, what is it?"

"I've just thought of something." Harry's eyes jerked around anxiously as he formulated his thoughts, pacing in front of the window. He wasn't going to let it get away this time.

"What?" Ginny said softly after a minute. She was still too stunned to move.

"I saw something else last night. With all the stuff about Voldemort I completely forgot. I remembered that conversation we had right before I left for Hogwarts that night. Do you remember it?" He turned to face her with concern in his eyes. "You didn't want me to go. You pleaded with me not to go."

"Yes," Ginny looked stricken. "I remember that Harry. It hurt me so much to see you go. I know we hadn't been 'together' since Dumbledore's funeral, but that didn't change the way I felt about you. I could never…"

"Me either. But Ginny, there's one piece of the puzzle that's still missing." Harry resumed his pacing. "You know how I survived Voldemort the first time because of my mother's love?"

"Yes."

"Well, that love caused Voldemort great pain right. That's what made the spell backfire, and that's why he couldn't bear to touch me."

"Yeah."

"Well, that changed when he came back, you know, in that graveyard, after the tournament. He could touch me again. That same protection my mother gave me was now in him because of my blood in the potion." Harry chewed on his fist anxiously as he assembled his thoughts, finally understanding.

"Where are you going with this Harry?"

"I'm saying, that power my mother gave me 21 years ago wouldn't have worked anymore, not against Voldemort. That curse up in the Astronomy tower should have killed me."

Ginny quailed at these words and leaned against the bed for support. After a moment she stammered, "You… you don't know that," she insisted, as though admitting it would make it true. "Maybe your mother's love was stronger for you because it was intended for you, not for Voldemort," she reasoned.

"Maybe, but I don't think that was all of it. I think there had to be something else, something more," Harry finished slowly. After a pause he seemed to have assembled his final conclusion. He stopped, facing the window again and spoke in an oddly resigned but thoroughly convinced tone. "Something to equal the power of my mothers love."

"What could do that?"

"You Ginny." Harry turned to her, his eyes flashing. "It was you!"

"What was?" Ginny looked very confused and worried. "Harry, what do you mean?"

"You loved me." Harry choked on the words, but swallowed and went on with determination. "You loved me more than anyone else ever has. I knew it that night when I left. I just didn't know it could mean so much, or be so strong."

"Harry, what are you saying?"

"You saved me Ginny! You saved me with your love for me," Harry said, pacing around the room. "Ginny, you helped me defeat Voldemort. We did it together." Harry walked quickly over to her and held her by the shoulders, looking her square in the eye. "Don't you see? It was never about which spell could finally kill him or some kind of tactic that would give me the upper hand. There had always been that fundamental difference between him and me. Ever since the prophecy." Harry looked away, trying to remember the exact words he had heard seven years ago in Dumbledore's office. " It said: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…' power, not strength. Why didn't I see that before?"

Harry was trembling with the combined excitement and sheer gravity of what he had just realized. Ginny was paralyzed, unable to move as she gazed into his fiery green eyes.

"That has to be it, Ginny. I've never felt like this before. I've never known a stronger truth in my entire life. I know it from the depths of my soul. It was you Ginny. It is you." He could bear it no longer. As he kissed her, it was as if he left his own body. Warmth spread through him such as he had never felt before. When they pulled apart, they suddenly realized that they were both kneeling on the floor. Looking into each other's eyes, they knew.

"Ginny?" Harry croaked.

"Harry?" Ginny sobbed.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 3: Time Flies

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 3: Time Flies  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Spirits are soaring and life is changing in drastic ways. Harry and Ginny prepare for a life together that seems ordinary enough, but that all changes when an old friend drops by with an unusual offer.

* * *

"When do you think we should tell them?" 

"Hm?"

"You're family, Hermione, everyone. When do you want to break the news?" Harry stroked Ginny's hair gently as it fluttered in the breeze. Still in their nightclothes, they were sitting in the window with Ginny cradled in Harry's arms, both of them gazing out at the morning sky as the sun warmed them. They had sat there in silence, reveling in the reality of what had just transpired. If it was five minutes or five hours, they didn't know.

"You think we should wait?"

"Maybe, I wanted to know what you thought. They're your family."

"Well, they're going to be your family too." Ginny turned and smiled up at him. Harry looked somewhat mystified as he savored those words.

"Yeah… they really will won't they? My very own family." He hugged her more tightly and buried his head in her shoulder. Ginny reached up and stroked his cheek thoughtfully for a moment.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we should wait a little bit. We could take a few days to enjoy it, just you and me," she said in a dreamy voice. "You know, before things get crazy. Mum is going to pixie-fit when we tell her." Harry laughed, picturing a scene with Mrs. Weasley running about frantically, completely unsure of what to do with herself.

"Don't forget Ron," Harry added conversationally.

"Bloody hell, no kidding. I don't know if he ever got used to us dating, and if he did it was like, yesterday." They both laughed, remembering with great amusement a very frustrated Ron who, as their relationship had grown more serious, had skulked about for weeks, pretending not to notice them kissing or holding hands.

"So, when do you think we should have the wedding? June?" Harry asked.

"Nah, June weddings are overrated. Besides, I don't think I could possibly wait that long." She grinned coyly at Harry who raised a curious eyebrow. "I was thinking, a bit sooner. What do you say to a December wedding? Everyone will already be here for Christmas and it would be so beautiful."

"I've never thought of a Christmas wedding. You think we can do it that soon? That's in less than two months."

"Yeah, it'll be hard, but won't that be worth it?"

"Mm," Harry affirmed looking off into the distance. His mind was racing at the prospect of being married in less than two months.

"We don't have to think about it right now. Let's take it easy for a while," Ginny said, relaxing back into the warmth of Harry's embrace. They sat again in perfect stillness for several minutes.

"Wow," Harry said finally, stretching his arms over his head.

"Wow what?" Ginny looked at him quizzically.

"Nothing, just… wow," said Harry smiling as he leaned in and kissed her. "You want to go get some breakfast?" he said, hopping down from the window and holding out his hand.

"Sounds great," she said as he helped her to the floor, "Mr. Potter."

"Well let's go then, _Miss_ Weasley."

"Not for long," she shot back as they headed for the stairs.

* * *

"Where is it going to be?" 

"We haven't decided yet." Harry stepped out of the lift and walked briskly toward the Office of Aurors, followed closely by Tonks, who was sporting a face-full of freckles, blazing red hair, and intensely bright green eyes.

"This is so exciting. When are you going public?" She asked softly as they walked down a row of tightly arranged cubicles. Harry eyed her suspiciously but said nothing until they had turned down the next corridor, out of immediate earshot.

"Public?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, public. Don't you play dumb with me. This is going to be front-page news when it hits. 'The Boy Who Lived' getting married," she said with relish, tapping her rolled up copy of _The Daily Prophet_. "You know, you probably ought to consult with a media specialist. It's going to be absolutely nuts when they hear about it."

"I'm not hiring a media specialist. Who do you think I am, Gilderoy Lockhart?" Somehow, Harry managed to snatch a doughnut from a nearby tray while juggling his briefcase and a thick stack of file folders long enough to stick the pastry into his mouth just as he finished his sentence. Tonks shook her head and muttered something along the lines of "Men…" as they continued to the far corner of the massive department.

"Harry, all I'm saying is… You don't need that kind of distraction. You could really use someone to handle and coordinate access control so things don't get out of hand," she said as they turned into Harry's office, followed closely by Kate. As they were deep in conversation, Tonks didn't even realize she had bumped hard into the coat tree by the door. Kate reached over and caught it automatically, setting it right without so much as a second glance. "Really Harry," Tonks argued, "I don't think you realize how important this is. It's going to be all over the papers, they'll follow you everywhere."

"Who's following you everywhere?" asked Kate as she handed Harry his morning messages and set his coffee on his desk.

"Nobody," Harry said quickly, eyeing Tonks with a cautionary glare. "Kate, can you give us a minute?"

"Of course," she said, looking at both of them curiously and closing the door behind her.

"I'm sorry Harry. I didn't realize… You haven't told her yet?"

"Of course I haven't told her yet." Harry sat down heavily in his high backed chair and began to organize the pile of messages without looking up at Tonks. "This whole office staff is like one big gossip pool. By the end of the day they'll have it that I'm running away with the minister's wife and moving to Bulgaria. Now _that's_ a media headache. Please Tonks, keep this quiet would you…?" He finally stopped his paper shuffling and looked up with pleading eyes. There was a twinkle of admiration in her expression as she nodded gently, as if to say, 'Anything for you,' at which Harry smiled gratefully. "And seriously Tonks, change your eyes or something, you look ridiculous."

"Just honoring the happy couple," she said with a pop that revealed curly auburn hair and light blue eyes. A small smattering of minute freckles remained on her upper cheeks and button nose. "So when is the wedding anyway?"

"December 28th. The invitations will be going out as soon as we choose a place."

"Wow, that soon?" she grinned. "A little eager aren't we?"

Harry glared at her as he bellowed, "Kate!" and pointed an admonitory finger at Tonks as his office door opened. "Let's get to work shall we," he said to his assistant, without looking away from Tonks, who rolled her eyes and nodded pleasantly to Kate as she bounced out the door.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny sat on Harry's couch, eagerly flipping through wedding catalogues as Harry and Ron stood watching from the kitchen. 

"What god-awful color do you think they're going to make me wear?" asked Ron.

"I have no idea. I pick my battles," said Harry.

"Smart move," Ron said taking a swig of butterbeer.

"So you're really okay with this?" Harry asked.

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" Ron said casually. Harry laughed, thinking of the many reasons he hadn't been in the past.

"Well, you know, she's your only sister and, it must be a little bit weird for you."

"That is true. She is my baby sister – and don't you forget it –" Ron said, punching Harry jokingly on the shoulder, "but really, I have to admit it fits. It was weird at first. Back in school, when you got together, I thought I was going to punch your lights out for sure, but eventually I got used to it. After all, you were a right sight better than her other boy friends. And she's always been so happy when you're together." Ron looked over at Ginny who was laughing loudly, pointing at a picture as Hermione looked on in disgust. He smiled, adoring his one and only sister as she flipped the pages happily. "Look at her… I can't be upset with that."

"Yeah, she's really great isn't she?" said Harry affectionately, putting his arm around his best friend's shoulder and swallowing a big gulp from his bottle.

"See, now you're weirding me out, Harry," Ron said, tensing up. "I'm okay with this, but that's the sort of thing I don't need to hear from you."

"What, what'd I say?" Harry retracted his arm and turned, leaning his hands against the counter. Ron just rolled his eyes. "It's really great of you to be my best man," said Harry after a moment.

"Hey, I'm honored. I've had three older brothers get married and they've all had someone else do it, and I'll bet anything Fred and George will be each other's best man whenever they get married. This is probably my only chance."

"Yeah, well, you're the closest thing to a brother I've ever had…" Harry said softly, "…So there's that. Plus, once this is all over, I will actually _be_ your brother," he finished thoughtfully. Ron looked up at him suddenly and Harry had to turn away.

"Wow, you're right." Ron's eyes lit up and he grinned wickedly. "I'm going to have a _younger_ brother."

"Ron."

"And I won't even have to deal with all the crying and dirty diapers and…"

"Ron."

"Harry, this is amazing."

"Ron seriously."

"No, you don't understand." Ron's voice was rising quickly in both intensity and volume. "All those years of torture with five older brothers!"

"Ron seriously, control yourself."

"And I'm not the youngest any more! Come here baby brother." Ron smothered Harry in a massive bear hug as his entire body shook with huge, mock sobs. Harry couldn't help but laugh as Ron howled sarcastically, but in all actuality, he felt like he truly did want to cry. He had never really thought about how much that fateful meeting on the Hogwarts Express had changed his life, and how important Ron's friendship had been for him.

"What are you two blubbering about in there?" Hermione called from the living room.

"Hermione, stay out of this," said Ron, trying hard not to laugh. "It's a guy thing. You wouldn't understand."

"You can mock all you want Ron," Ginny chided. "It doesn't—"

"Ginny! Harry and I are having a serious moment in here and all you can do is joke," Ron bellowed, trying hard to sound hurt. He broke away from Harry, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Just stay out of it!" Ron paused, looking into Harry's eyes and holding him by his shoulders, trying desperately to sound serious. "Harry?" he snorted, holding in what was destined to be an enormous howl of laughter. "Do you have any ice cream?" At this point they could no longer contain themselves and both Harry and Ron doubled over in fits of laughter.

"Just ignore those children," said Hermione, waving a dismissive hand at Harry and Ron as they rolled on the floor, struggling for breath.

* * *

Harry glanced nervously up at the clock. Sighing frantically, he picked up his pace with a renewed zeal that surprised even him. His office couldn't have looked more different than it had just weeks before, with papers strewn everywhere and no end in sight. Now the room was quite bare. A small stack of reports was all that remained on Harry's desk. He quickly signed the one he was working on and slid it into a box on the floor next to him as he reached for the next one on the pile. Next to this box were several others full of papers, memos, reports, and various other official documents. Beyond those were many more empty cartons that appeared to be waiting for something. Harry jumped slightly at a knock on his door as it opened. 

"Harry, people will be going home soon, should I assemble the herd?" Harry looked at the clock again; flipping nervously through the remaining forms on his desk he quickly went back to his scribbling.

"Yes Kate, have them go to the staff room. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Very well," she said with a look of mild concern as she closed the door.

Kate had been worried about Harry all day. She'd never seen him work so frantically. That morning she had arrived to find Harry was already there. His appointments had all been canceled and his office was full of boxes. At surprisingly frequent intervals he would haul a carton or two from his office and dump them outside to be shipped down to archives. When she had asked him what was going on he simply replied: "Well, I thought it was about time I got caught up on all of this stuff. Oh, by the way, I need to make an announcement to the whole department before everyone goes home, office staff too."

With no small amount of concern for her boss's sanity, Kate quietly assembled everyone, frustrated that she couldn't tell anyone what the announcement was going to be about. Finally, just as the mob of people began planning a mutiny, Harry entered looking rather disheveled. "Hello everyone, thank you for coming." Harry stepped up near the front of the room. "This shouldn't take long. Can you all hear me?" A small chorus of no's drifted up from the back of the room. Harry grabbed a chair and stepped up onto it. "How's this?" he asked, steadying himself. "Good. I've gathered you all here to announce a couple of things. I wanted you to hear these from me before you will most certainly read about them in the paper tomorrow morning. I'm sorry I've had to keep them from you until now." The room reverberated with quiet murmurs as Harry paused.

"First, I am very happy to announce that Ginny and I are going to be married later this month." The murmurs briefly increased in volume, before the entire room broke out in applause. Kate, who was standing nearby, looked up at Harry with a mixture of shock and realization as she joined in.

"Thank you, thank you," Harry said, waving his hands for quiet. "I appreciate the understanding of those of you who are just hearing this now. We wanted to be sure everything was finalized before we announced it publicly. The second announcement I have may come as a bit of a shock to you all." The room grew eerily quiet. "As you know, it is a great honor to serve in this department. It has been a distinct pleasure for me as Head Auror. It has been a tremendous privilege to work with each and every one of you these last five years. Together we achieved the unthinkable, brought an end to an age of darkness, and helped bring forth a new purpose for our society. It is that great feeling of accomplishment that makes me so proud to be here today." He paused and cleared his throat nervously. Kate was looking up at him with a sense of foreboding that told him she knew exactly what he was about to say. "With the changes forthcoming in my life, I have decided, after much consideration, to resign as Head of the Department of Aurors."

Harry paused as this reality sank in, looking out over the sea of faces staring up at him. Over at a side door, he smiled as Hermione and Ginny appeared silently. Standing right behind them, and looking somewhat disgruntled, was the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. "After spending some quality time with my new wife, I hope to pursue other endeavors. While I have greatly enjoyed what we all do here, I have decided that I need something different in my life." Harry paused briefly and gestured toward the doorway. "The Minister has graciously agreed to allow me the honor of announcing, that my place will be taken by Miss Hermione Granger." Harry motioned for Hermione to join him and began the applause that again filled the room. After a moment's struggle, Hermione had arranged another chair next to Harry's and climbed onto it. A smiling Harry hugged her as the applause continued, causing her to blush slightly. "You'll be great," Harry whispered in her ear.

"I hope you all will be as wonderful to Hermione as you were to me," he spoke again to the room. "Finally, for those of you who don't know her, there is someone I would like you all to meet. Ladies and Gentlemen, the future Mrs. Potter, Miss Ginevra Weasley." Smiling broadly, Harry motioned for her to join him as well. She looked furious with him, but slowly walked over. He decided to save her the embarrassment and met her halfway. Kissing her, he held up her hand as he waved to the cheering crowd. After a moment he ushered a grateful Ginny out of the room. "Let's say we go finish packing my office and bugger out of here."

* * *

"Ginny, hang on. Wait for me," Harry said frantically as he raced to catch up with his bride. 

"Harry, come on, let me in. It's not even March yet. I'm freezing over here."

"I know, but there's something I have to do. Stand right there." Harry quickly unlocked the house and pushed the door open, peeking inside. Without warning he turned and swept her into his arms, walking confidently through the doorway.

"All that so you could carry me across the threshold?" Ginny complained as he set her down. "Harry, I've been to your house, what, about a thousand times."

"I know that, but it's not my house anymore. It's our house," Harry said with relish and swept his arm out dramatically as he stepped out of her line of sight.

"Oh my. Who did this?" Ginny gasped, dropping her suitcase by the door.

"I hired your brothers to come over and remodel the kitchen while we were gone. Don't worry. I told them to keep an eye on Fred and George. But look," Harry pulled her eagerly into the warm light and began opening each of the beautiful oaken cupboard doors. "Now that awful yellow you hated is gone. And look! They took all of the kitchen related gifts and put everything in its place. And that's not all. Follow me." Harry grabbed her by the hand again and led her through the house, pointing out various things. All of their wedding gifts had been carefully put away. The linen closet was full of new sheets, blankets, pillows and towels. There was entirely new furniture in the living room. The bathrooms had lost all evidence of the bachelor's life Harry had been living. Harry made a mental note to pay a special visit tomorrow. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had outdone themselves too.

"Wow Harry, this is wonderful," Ginny sighed sitting on the new couch and looking all around. "This is so great, I was dreading having to unwrap all of those gifts and put everything away and… Thank you Harry." She walked over to him and brought him into a deep kiss.

"You're welcome Ginny. But don't thank me. Thank them." Harry turned her around to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione smiling in the doorway. Ginny screamed and ran over to them.

"Thank you all so much," she said hugging them each in turn. "Everything is beautiful. Really, I'd be a hopeless decorator. It would have been awful. Please come in, take a seat."

"Oh that's alright Ginny dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "We've got to get going. We just wanted to stop by and say, welcome back. We'll catch up another time. I want to hear all about your trip."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay and have a cup of tea or something? Do we even have tea?" Ginny said looking at Harry who shrugged. Harry couldn't help but notice how very much she was like Mrs. Weasley just then, trying to be hospitable.

"No really dear it's alright. You've come a long way. We'll see you soon enough." Mrs. Weasley hugged them both and turned out the door. Harry and Ginny greeted each person as they turned and walked outside. Finally only Ron and Hermione were left.

"Welcome back," Hermione said, kissing Harry on the cheek. "We'll see you again really soon." She hugged Ginny as Ron clapped Harry on the back and shook his hand. "We've got loads to talk about," Hermione said breathlessly, adjusting her cloak and refastening the clasp. Ginny gasped.

"Hermione, what's that?" asked Ginny grabbing wildly for Hermione's left hand.

"Oh nothing," Hermione quickly slid her hand into the pocket of her cloak.

"No it wasn't 'nothing.' Give it here," Ginny seized Hermione's hand and yanked it from her pocket. Harry was looking quizzically at Ron who avoided his gaze. "I knew it!" screamed Ginny as she gawked at a sparkling diamond ring on Hermione's trembling left hand. "You weren't going to tell us?" Ginny bellowed, hitting Hermione on her shoulder.

"Well, we wanted to give you a day or so to, you know, settle in," Hermione stammered.

"Wow. This is great!" said Harry. "Congratulations!" He grabbed both Ron and Hermione into a hug. Ginny, who was still fuming, finally came to her senses and joined in. "So when did this happen?" asked Harry, admiring Hermione's ring.

"Valentine's Day," said Hermione kissing Ron on the cheek. "He's really a hopeless romantic." Ginny snickered as Ron blushed. "Well, we should get going. We'll have time to talk later, I promise. Let's go Ronald."

"Bye, we'll see you soon!" Ginny called out the door. They waved for a moment before Harry shut the door.

"Wow, that's really something. I didn't think he'd ever get up the nerve to do it," said Harry, gazing around the house and breathing deeply.

"Neither did I," said Ginny sliding her arm around Harry and leaning into him. "You know Harry, I think you forgot to show me the bedroom."

"You know, you're right. Well, we can't have that," he said looking Ginny in the eye and taking her by the hand. "Follow me."

* * *

Harry sat comfortably in his study, leaning back in his favorite chair. He sipped lightly from a tall glass of iced tea. On the desk in front of him were four letter sized paper boxes. The rightmost one was open and had a thick stack of paper next to it. Harry laughed and circled something on the sheet he was reading before placing it face down on the stack and retrieving another sheet from the box. The box farthest to the left had a large label pasted to it. All along the top of the label, the word "DRAFT" was printed over and over. Below that it read: _Lion, Eagle, Badger, and Serpent: A History of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ by H. J. Weasley. Below that were the words: "Forward to be written by Harry Potter." 

Harry circled another passage and made a note on a piece of parchment next to him. He looked up when he heard a knock at the front door. "Don't get up Harry. I'll get it," called Ginny. Harry was grateful. This had been a long read and Hermione was hoping for his response very soon. If he tried hard he'd be able to finish reading today and get started on his part. The study door slid open and Harry looked up. "Sorry but, Professor McGonagall is here. She needs to talk to you."

"Okay, I'll be right there." Harry finished the page quickly as he stood, slipping on his loafers. Stretching, he glanced over at the mirror to check his unruly hair. At least it wasn't any worse than usual. Taking his glass he ambled into the living room, still stiff from sitting so long. "Good afternoon Professor," said Harry shaking her hand and settling down on the love seat as McGonagall took a place on the couch. "Did Ginny—"

"Way ahead of you dear," said Ginny, carrying a tray with biscuits and a pitcher of tea.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" Harry smiled at her as he poured a glass for the professor and refilled his own.

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Ginny smiling as she turned to leave the room. "Yell if you need anything."

"Oh, Ginny, stay if you would please," said Professor McGonagall. "This will concern you as well."

"Alright then." Ginny sat next to Harry as he conjured another glass and filled it for her.

"You know professor, I've nearly finished reading the latest draft of Hermione's new book. Have you heard about it?"

"Please Harry, call me Minerva. You're not my student anymore."

"Yes, of course Professor." Harry smiled mischievously as she laughed, shaking her head.

"Another book? No I haven't heard about it. What is it?"

"A comprehensive History of Hogwarts," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Comprehensive?" McGonagall choked into her glass. "Should I be worried?"

"Oh, no. I think it should fit into a single volume," Harry laughed. "I'm sure she'll send a copy up to you when it's finished. I needed it early because she's asked me to write the forward."

"Oh very good. That's a very appropriate choice. Timely even." She said the last two words almost to herself.

"So, how are things up at good old Hogwarts anyway? I trust the end-of-year festivities went well."

"They did. Not that I should be playing favorites but, Gryffindor won the House Cup again."

"Well of course," Harry waved his hand dismissively. "That Quidditch team they had this year was top notch from what I heard. Please pass on my congratulations to Professor Orchards."

"That's actually, sort of, why I'm here." Minerva set down her glass and leaned closer to them. "Professor Orchards has decided not to stay on for next year, and so I am, once again, in search of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Damn." Harry fell back hard against his seat and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"I really thought we'd broken that cursed trend this time. She seemed like a winner," said Ginny.

"Yes, she did quite well," Minerva continued. "We were getting along famously and she really did want to stay, but her husband has become very ill it doesn't look as if he's going to recover. She's decided to take an early retirement to be with him."

"Well, that's too bad." said Harry. "I'd like to help in any way I can of course, but you should really be talking to Hermione if you want suggestions. I've been out of the loop for months. I honestly couldn't think of anyone off the top of my head."

"I appreciate that Harry," said McGonagall, "but I'm not here for suggestions."

"Oh?" Harry said in surprise. "Was there something else I can help you with?" He looked curiously over at Ginny as she helped herself to another biscuit.

"I hope so." The Hogwarts Headmistress looked uncharacteristically nervous as she sat up more stiffly than usual. "I've thought of asking you a number of times before, but I didn't because of your job with the ministry, and other responsibilities. Now that you're no longer working there, I'd like to offer the job to you."

"To me? But Professor, I… I don't… that is to say… do you really think… I mean… I don't have any experience with…"

"Nonsense," said Professor McGonagall.

"Of course you do Harry," said Ginny smiling and grasping his hand on top of his knee, which was bouncing nervously. "You were a great teacher with the D.A."

"You handled those lessons quite professionally Harry. Dumbledore was very excited when he told me what you all were up to. 'A natural leader' he called you."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin. I'm not very familiar with much of the historical literature…"

"You'd know perfectly well where to begin. You have more current experience facing the dark arts than any living wizard Harry. And, I think you'd agree, that class is not very well served by textbooks alone. The books will take care of themselves. What that class desperately needs is a good teacher, who can really show the students what they need to know. And I think it's time we really gave it a more forward-minded approach."

Harry sat in silence, thinking. Ginny and McGonagall sat patiently. After a moment they each reached for a biscuit and enjoyed them as Harry pondered.

"Something else to consider," Professor McGonagall continued, "is that I'd also ask you to be the head of Gryffindor House." Harry looked up, intrigued. "And, if you are willing, we could use a new flying instructor and Quidditch referee. Madam Hooch would like to retire as well, but has agreed to stay on until I find a replacement. You don't have to make a decision immediately. I'm sure there are number of related issues you'll need to discuss. Letters will be sent out mid-July." She thought to herself for a moment. "If I give you until the end of June would that be enough time? That's just over a week."

"Yes, I think so," said Harry.

"Very well. I'll leave you to consider the matter," she said, rising. "Thank you very much for the refreshments Ginny."

"You're quite welcome. We'll talk it over, I'll see to it," Ginny said. She seemed to be holding back a bit of excitement as they walked to the front door.

"I'll be hearing from you soon then," McGonagall said hopefully, stepping into the summer sunlight.

"You don't think I'm a bit young to be a Hogwarts teacher," Harry finally broke his silence.

"Youth has far more advantages than disadvantages, I think," said McGonagall proudly.

"I'm sorry Professor, I didn't mean to suggest…"

"I know you didn't Harry. You know, as much as you may dislike him, Professor Snape was an able potions teacher at the age of 21. You'll be 23 soon won't you?"

"Twenty-three?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Ha!" Professor McGonagall laughed as she turned down the walk. "I'll see you soon. Take care now." Ginny closed the door and guided a thoroughly befuddled Harry over to the kitchen table where she sat him in a chair, pulling up another one to sit opposite him.

"I'm going to be 23," said Harry, this time as though he knew it to be true, but could hardly believe it.

"Yes Harry."

"But that would mean, I left Hogwarts five years ago, and you did four years ago. It doesn't seem that long."

"I know," said Ginny. She rose silently, and kissed Harry on his forehead. "Time flies, doesn't it?"


	5. Chapter 4: Behind the Gargoyle

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 4: Behind the Gargoyle  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry is thoroughly distracted by McGonagall's request. A visit from Hermione and Ron provides some lively discussion and helps him make his decision. Harry never would have known it would lead to answers to some of the most secretive questions regarding Dumbledore's death, and the mysterious freedom of two former Death-eaters.

* * *

Harry sat staring through the window of his den. He had been holding the same piece of paper for the better part of half an hour, occasionally peering over the words but never actually comprehending what they said. By now he could barely keep the page upright. His hand was sweating so profusely that the corner he was holding had nearly disintegrated. Setting the wrinkled paper down, he rose to his feet stiffly, shaking air underneath his soaked t-shirt and fanning his face with his hand. He reached for his wand and performed a simple drying spell on his damp clothes before sitting down again, determined to read on.

Summer had taken a strong hold on the region, and everybody was suffering from the very sudden, very early heat wave. But the distraction of the heat was nothing compared to the virtual circus of thoughts racing through Harry's head. He hadn't stopped thinking of that meeting with Professor McGonagall and her offer, just three days ago. He felt guilty about not finishing Hermione's manuscript and was reminded, with an amused sense of irony, of his days as a student at Hogwarts; always waiting until the last minute, always thinking about something else when he should have been studying. Now the thing distracting him from his work was the school itself.

Having made no progress since he had first sat down, Harry admitted defeat, again, and decided to take a break, refill his glass, and see what Ginny was up to. He paused in front of the open icebox, enjoying the cool air and admiring his wife through the kitchen window. Ginny was outside, lazily tending the garden. Harry couldn't help but notice the beads of sweat dripping down her fair skin as she kneeled in the sweltering Saturday sun. He quickly ducked his head behind the door of the icebox as she turned and caught him staring. Bang. He pretended he didn't hear anything as he filled his glass to the brim with cold pumpkin juice. BANG! Harry jumped at the loudness of Ginny's fist on the window and decided he had better look, afraid she would break the glass with her next blow. Slurping the slopped juice from his hand, he put on his most innocent face as she stood, shaking a dusty finger at him and trying hard not to smile. He shrugged and stuck out his lower lip, holding up another glass and raising his eyebrows. She nodded vigorously and turned to walk inside. Harry drained the pitcher of pumpkin juice into her glass as she walked through the side door into the kitchen, kicking off her dusty shoes. She stood, hands on her hips, silently glaring at Harry's back, obviously waiting for him to apologize. Unwilling to give in so easily, Harry thought of a way he could force Ginny to break the silence first as he slid the pitcher back into the icebox.

"Harry, don't put that back in there if it's empty!" She ran over and yanked it from his hands, nearly dropping it and slopping pumpkin juice all down her shirt.

"Now look what you've done," said Harry, pulling the pitcher back from her hands and placing it gently on the top shelf. He chuckled to himself, as he walked toward a dripping, sticky Ginny who was leaning over with her arms out in front of her in an attempt to keep her shirt from clinging.

"That was a cheap trick. I didn't even see you refill it," she scolded, glaring at him.

"The hand is quicker than the eye," Harry said as he walked behind her. Ginny let out a sudden shriek.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! Do that again and I'll hex you."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Oh you would, would you?"

"Well… it would be a fun diver—"

"Harry? Ginny? Everything all right? We heard someone scream."

"Ron! Hermione! What are you doing here?" Ginny gasped as she ran from the room.

"What's going on Harry?" asked Hermione as she entered the kitchen from the direction of the front door.

"Nothing, just a spill." Harry waved his wand and the juice stained floor sparkled clean.

"Hey, you're getting pretty good at that," said Hermione, examining the floor carefully.

"Well, Ginny's got me doing the cleaning every other day," Harry said offhandedly.

"Really? How did she manage that?" Hermione said, looking around the kitchen, inspecting Harry's handiwork. Ron, who didn't know what to think, shot Harry a glance that was somewhere between a smirk and a stern warning. Harry sensed danger for his best friend and quickly changed the subject.

"So, what brings you two out here?" Harry asked conversationally.

"Oh, we just had to get out of London. It's absolutely sweltering and the tourists are driving us mad." Hermione continued her passive sweep of the kitchen as she spoke. "You know, I'd heard it was bad, but I never would have realized before we moved to that Muggle infested city."

"Hermione!" Harry gasped, dropping his jaw. "What's gotten into you?" Ron simply stared, too shocked for words.

"Oh, did I say that out loud?" Hermione turned to face Harry and Ron who just stood there, dumbfounded. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. Come on, it's not like… Seriously, I have nothing against muggles. I mean, come on, why would I have a problem with muggles? It was just a little misdirected anger, that's all. It's not just the muggles after all. The London wizards are just as bad. Making a ruckus all night long. It's like living in the middle of Fred and George's workshop. I don't know how anybody sleeps. And it's so crowded all the time. I guess I've always been more fond of the countryside."

"Hey Hermione, Ron. What'd I miss?" Ginny walked back into the kitchen wearing a fresh shirt and put her arm around Harry. Harry's eyes bulged and he almost yelped, but managed to turn it into a convincing cough as he glared at Ginny who responded with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh, nothing much," said Hermione looking a bit flustered. "What have you two been up to? How are your classes Ginny?"

"Oh, they're alright. There's one that's a bit of a pain right now, but it will be over soon, which is good. I'm really looking forward to Advanced Restorative Charms."

"Ooh, that sounds exciting, you'll have to tell me about it," Hermione said with enthusiasm.

"I will." Ginny smiled weakly at Harry, who was rolling his eyes. "That way I won't bore Harry to death with all the details."

"Speaking of boredom, how's the reading going Harry?" asked Hermione. Ron snorted but quickly put on an innocent face when Ginny glared at him, tapping her fingers lightly on her wand.

"Reading?" Harry tried to pretend he didn't know what she had been talking about. "Oh, your book. It's great! I'm almost done. Say, let's go into the living room and sit a spell shall we?" Harry turned and led them around the corner, giving himself a moment to compose his thoughts before having to look Hermione in the eye.

"You were almost finished three days ago?" Hermione said with a hint of annoyance as they chose their seats. "What happened?"

"Well, I've been a bit distracted." Harry ran his fingers subconsciously through his hair, which was messier than usual due to the high heat and humidity. "I'm sorry Hermione, but I think I might need a little more time for that forward. Actually, come to think of it, depending on what happens you might want some extra time on the book yourself."

"What makes you say that? Is it bad? Are there a lot of mistakes?" Hermione was growing increasingly agitated.

"No, no, no, nothing like that," Harry said in what he hoped was a calming voice. "It's just… Something's come up and, it might involve something you would want to put in the book."

"What is it?" Hermione responded with increased agitation, rendering Harry's calming efforts completely useless. "Are they having the Triwizard Tournament again? But why would they do that? They had it three years ago. Besides, isn't it Durmstrang's turn next?"

"No, Hermione." Harry couldn't help smiling at her frantic jabbering.

"It is! Eight years ago it was Hogwarts, then Beauxbatons had it. Obviously, tradition states that—"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm sure you're right, but that's not what's going on." Harry choked back a laugh, knowing it would only upset her further. "It turns out we were wrong about Professor Orchards. She's not staying."

"Oh really? I was positive she'd be the one to finally break that wretched curse." Hermione bit her nails distractedly, staring off into nothing. "Are you quite sure Harry? I haven't heard anything from Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she would have contacted me by now for some suggestions. She was always breaking down your door this time of year."

"I don't think you'll be hearing from her just yet. She's already offered someone the job," Harry said smugly. Hermione looked scandalized.

"What? Well, this is absurd. She should have at least consulted with me. I had two or three names picked out, you know, just in case we were wrong about Orchards, which, it turns out, we were…"

Harry and Ginny shared a patient look while Ron simply shook his head in embarrassment as Hermione continued to ramble.

"…But seriously, I would have heard if anyone in the department had accepted the job. What two-bit nobody did she go and pick anyway?"

"Um…" Harry sat, opening and closing his mouth over and over again, unsure of what to say.

"Um…" Hermione shot back sarcastically, "Well, didn't she tell you who she offered it to?"

"Kind of…" Harry said timidly.

"Harry, do you know who she offered the job to, or don't you?" Hermione stood up quite suddenly and glowered down at him.

"I do," he responded simply.

"Then who is it?" Hermione bellowed in frustration.

"Me."

There was a long, awkward silence as Hermione played back the conversation they had just had. Slowly, piece-by-piece, she put together everything she had said (as well as how little anyone else had). She reached down, feeling for her seat as she stared off in to space, a slow expression of comprehension coming over her as she sat down again. "Oh no! Harry I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to imply… Really, I didn't mean it. I'm just a little frustrated is all, trying to get this book finished and… It's been absolute madness and it's so hard for me to concentrate working in London. Sometimes I've stayed late at the Ministry just so I could get some peace and quiet. Harry, really, I'm sorry. It's wonderful she offered it to you." A single tear fell down Hermione's cheek and Harry instantly warmed inside.

"You're forgiven," he said reaching for her hand, "but Hermione, you have to promise me you'll chill out a little bit. You've been driving Ron nuts and I can see why. You're just too wound up right now. Look, the book's done. It's great. As soon as I get my piece in, you can send it off to the printer's."

"You really like it?"

"Sure I do. Ask Ron, he liked it too."

"Ronald? You read it? When? If I'd have known…" Ron shot Harry a scathing look.

"It's okay Ron. Hermione's not going to quiz you or anything. You read the book, and you liked it. That's all that matters. Right Hermione?"

"Oh… Right, of course." Hermione leaned closer to Ron and took his hand in hers. "Thank you sweetheart. It really means a lot to me." He blushed crimson as she kissed him on the cheek.

"That was sweet Harry," Ginny said softly as she leaned over and kissed Harry's cheek, which made Ron feel much less self-conscious.

"So Harry, this is exciting. She really offered you the job?" said Hermione who seemed much more like her usual self now.

"That's not all," called Ginny, who had just stepped into the kitchen to grab some drinks. "She wants him to be Head of House for Gryffindor and teach flying and referee for Quidditch."

"Head of House? Harry that would be amazing!" said Ron excitedly. "Oh, Snape's going to love this. Finally someone can get back at him for favoring the Slytherins."

"Ronald! Harry would never play favorites. Would you Harry?" Hermione said with dignity.

"I suppose not," said Harry. "But I could be a little more proactive than the other teachers have been. No more changing the Quidditch schedule just to train whatever joke they have for a new seeker. No more beating up on Gryffindor students instead of bloody teaching them something. I'd tutor them myself if I needed to, to get them through potions. But seriously, we're getting way ahead of ourselves here. I haven't even decided yet. Let's stop talking as though I've already accepted."

"Oh come on Harry, you know you want to take it," said Ginny handing him his previously forgotten glass of pumpkin juice and passing two fresh ones to Ron and Hermione. "How many times do I have to tell you? You'd be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they've ever had. Just think about poor old Neville. Before the D.A. he was hopeless."

"He was not hopeless," Harry groaned in frustration. "How many times to I have to say it? He just needed to loosen up a bit. Once he stopped doubting himself so much… Well, you saw what he could do."

"See that!" said Ginny, pointing at Harry as Ron and Hermione nodded. "You know just how to encourage someone and keep his spirits up. Harry I'm telling you; you're a natural. If you let this one go… Ten years from now you may not even be able to live with yourself. Those students need you Harry, and what's more, I really think you need them too."

"Ginny's right Harry," said Ron. "You keep saying you've been wanting to find what's 'next.' Maybe this is it."

"And don't forget about the Quidditch," Hermione added cheerfully. "You may not get to play, but it will be great just to be there for all of that, won't it? I know you've been missing it Harry." Ron choked into his glass and looked at Hermione in shock. "What? I like Quidditch just as much as anyone else Ron. Just because I change out of my orange robes when we get home from a match doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the game."

"Meh," said Ron softly. "Orange robes, black robes, it's all the same to me once the lights go—"

"Ronald! Behave yourself," Hermione whispered sharply, kicking him in the shin. Seeing that Harry and Ginny were arguing animatedly, and hadn't noticed, she shot back a wry smile as Ron rubbed his leg, grinning stupidly.

* * *

"Golden Snitch!" Harry shouted, grinning from ear to ear. After a moment's silence, the stone gargoyle jerked to life and leapt out of the way, revealing the spiraling stone staircase as it spun upward. Harry and Ginny climbed happily onto a step and began walking up the stairs, too eager to wait for the ride to the top. Harry knocked heavily on the large wooden door.

"Enter!" came the Headmistress's voice, and the door creaked open on its own. Harry and Ginny moved to the desk as quickly as they could without actually breaking into a run. "Well if it isn't the Potters. It's Lovely to see you again, Harry, Ginny. Please, have a seat." Expecting the two stiff backed wooden chairs they had seen as they came in, Harry and Ginny were shocked to see that they had been transformed into two comfortable, blue armchairs. "Most visitors to this office, I daresay, don't deserve much comfort," Professor McGonagall smiled knowingly at Harry, "but from time to time I do have the honor of more pleasant company." Walking around the desk, she sat in a similar chair that had appeared facing them. "I presume you are here because you have made your decision."

"Yes," said Harry, barely containing his excitement.

"And, what say you?" McGonagall said ceremoniously.

"Look at my face Professor." Harry stammered.

"Yes, Harry, you appear to be having a nervous reaction." Minerva chuckled at Harry's keen expression. "Certainly it should clear up once you relieve yourself of the burden of what appears to be very urgent information."

"I'll take it! When can I start?" Harry blurted eagerly.

"Well, I should think September the 1st should suffice," McGonagall replied with another chuckle. "Of course I will need some things from you right away: any course materials the students should have, and your choice of text. I'll need your first week's lesson plans by the 15th of August, and the school's board of governors will need all of your latest credentials and certifications. Is there anything that you need from me?"

"I'm not really sure at the moment. I'll think of things as I go I guess." Harry glanced at Ginny, as though hoping she would have an idea. When she shrugged he turned back to McGonagall, thinking hard. "An office I suppose. When is Professor Orchards moving out?"

"Oh she's already gone, with all of her stuff. She was packed up and ready to go before the leaving feast. Wanted to get ahead of the rush of students, you know."

"Great. Then we can start moving stuff in right away." Harry glanced eagerly at Ginny, who was almost as excited as he was.

"Well, I suggest we wait a bit on that Professor Potter," McGonagall said, putting extra emphasis on the last two words.

"Ooh," Ginny said, shivering in her seat and smiling. "Just the sound of that gives me goose bumps."

"Why should we wait Professor?" asked Harry, smiling in agreement with Ginny, but eager to press on.

"Well, there's been another development I'm afraid. I have to ask you if you'll accept one more responsibility. If you do you'll be needing to decide which things to keep in the Defense office and which to keep in your other office."

"Other office, what other office? Really Headmistress, I don't have that much stuff. I don't need two offices." Harry gave a hollow, skeptical laugh. Professor McGonagall maintained her traditional severe expression.

"That remains to be determined, Harry." McGonagall's expression changed quickly from amusement to seriousness in a way only she could do. "I'm afraid our dear Professor Sprout has resigned as well. The stress of rebuilding the grounds over these last couple of years has been awfully hard on her, but things are well on their way to recovery now."

"You want me to teach Herbology?" Harry asked breathlessly. "I'm sorry, professor, but there's no possible way I could handle that workload. I was never as good at it either."

"No, I don't need you to teach Herbology." At this, she smiled again in amusement. "I've already filled that position actually. The complication I have to deal with, is that Professor Sprout was also deputy headmistress, so I have that role to fill as well."

"What about Professor Flitwick?"

"I have asked, and he has declined. He's not a young man anymore, but still brilliant at charms as always," McGonagall chirped fondly.

"Oh no, you're not thinking…" Harry was suddenly rethinking his optimism at taking the job. Hoping he had guessed wrong he tentatively offered, "Professor Snape?"

"No, I am not." The room seemed to grow dimmer and even slightly cold in the dark pause that followed these words. Minerva leaned closer and looked intently at both Harry and Ginny in turn. "Now I must warn you both that what you are about to hear must be kept in the strictest secrecy. Not even the Minister for Magic is privy to this information. Do I have your confidence?"

"Yes," Harry and Ginny responded gravely. Harry got the feeling that McGonagall's words sounded oddly rehearsed.

"Professor Dumbledore left a final testament," McGonagall began with an air that suggested she was telling a long, sad story. "Most of its contents are still unknown to anyone. Dumbledore enchanted it to reveal information only when there is a profound need for it, and then, only to the most trustworthy person concerned, who most needed to know. This person would then be bound by the same principles for passing along that information to others as well. As such, I'm afraid that much of what I do know I am, quite literally, unable to reveal to you."

Harry and Ginny exchanged silent looks of apprehension as McGonagall paused for effect.

"Professor Snape has advanced as much as he ever will at Hogwarts," she continued gravely. "We all know, of course, that Dumbledore planned his death, but most people do not know how this was proven. His will explains the circumstances clearly. As was previously apparent to you, Harry, Dumbledore's death was already imminent at the time of Snape's death curse. The ministry reduced Snape's charges when it was determined that, had he not killed Dumbledore – who would have died shortly thereafter anyway – the result could have meant the death of Severus Snape or Draco Malfoy, or perhaps even both. They were each essential to Professor Dumbledore's plans and could not be sacrificed. It was in light of these facts, that both Malfoy and Snape were eventually released on probationary terms." Harry and Ginny shared another significant look, but remained resolutely silent.

"As you know, Mr. Malfoy is still completing his reentry procedures. Malfoy's sentence was longer because, while his crimes were much less successful, they were carried out with much darker intent than Snape, who was indeed serving as a very secretive double agent for Dumbledore. Professor Snape has completed his reentry process and is now a full citizen, short of the mandatory requirement to register as a former dark wizard." Harry nodded at these words. This was information he already knew.

"As for Professor Snape's role at Hogwarts, Dumbledore made it expressly clear that the exonerating evidence his will gave, would only come with Snape's agreement to never seek or hold a role that would ever leave him with any authority over the school as a whole. As a result, he is ineligible for the position of Deputy Headmaster." McGonagall paused to be sure they understood this point. Harry responded with a single nod that obviously meant he wanted her to continue. "I cannot be sure if this is the case, but I think I am correct in guessing, that this clause was a very late addition to the will. Dumbledore did continue to trust Professor Snape for his important task, but he was decidedly furious with him for his behavior the previous year, most especially regarding your Occlumency lessons, and also for his treatment of Sirius."

Harry and Ginny simply gaped at each other, stunned at the revelations they were hearing. The conditions of Snape's and Malfoy's shockingly short prison terms had been an incredible mystery since they were handed down, with a single, brief statement from the Ministry:

_Certain classified evidence has come to our attention, which has shed light on the circumstances of these two men's crimes, and has showed, incontrovertibly, that prior to their arrest, with the assistance of Dumbledore himself, they played a key part in bringing forth the largest capture of death eaters to date._

That record capture had occurred just two months after Dumbledore's death, and was not surpassed until the very end of the Great War, and the death of Voldemort himself.

The ensuing scandal had riveted the papers for months. People simply found it too hard to believe after everything they had heard, until something equally unbelievable happened. It was one of the few harrowing acts of publicity in which Harry had played a willing role. He had shocked the entire wizarding world when, at the age of 17, he publicly called upon all people, to join him in the fight against the real threat to their lives. "Dumbledore has sacrificed his life for all of us, and we must believe, however difficult it may be, that with the help of these two wizards he has indeed turned the tide of the war in our favor." It had been one of the biggest leaps of faith Harry had ever taken, shocking even his close friends. He simply knew he had to trust Dumbledore, and that meant trusting Snape, however hard it would seem.

Now, with the final pieces of the puzzle, Harry's mind raced to put together all of the new information he had received. Professor McGonagall paused, allowing them to absorb. Eventually, Ginny seemed to finally grasp everything, and took Harry's hand. "It really was the right thing to do wasn't it? You know, I was so proud of you that day when you got up and defended Snape and Malfoy. We all thought you were crazy, but something in your eyes told me that you were right. Now we know."

"Yeah," Harry said lamely, studying the floor in deep concentration.

"I must remind you again," said Professor McGonagall, "this information is not to leave this room. Truth be told, you shouldn't be able to divulge what we've discussed here, but I shudder to think what could happen if you tried."

"I understand," said Harry. "So for Deputy Headmaster or mistress, you'd need either me, or the new head of Hufflepuff wouldn't you? If Professor Flitwick won't do it, and Professor Snape can't…"

"Your assessment is correct Harry," Professor McGonagall replied simply. "Again, you won't be obligated to accept immediately but, strictly between us, I have chosen to offer it first to you. You may take a few days to consider before you—"

"I'll do it."

"You're sure you don't want to think on it for a while?"

"No, I was sorry I waited so long to accept the first position. I don't want to make that mistake again." Harry smiled over at Ginny who nodded her approval.

"Very well," McGonagall continued. "Professor Sprout will be moving her things by the end of July. That should allow you enough time to get yourself properly situated before start of term. We will, at some point, need to schedule some meetings in the late part of August to coordinate the beginnings of the school year. You, of course, will be presiding over the sorting ceremony and we will have to prepare for that. The process is somewhat, 'different' from when you were students."

"How do you mean?" Harry glanced up and looked at the tattered form of the sorting hat, sitting silently on a high shelf.

"Well, it's a bit more drawn out, I'm afraid. It started two sortings ago. It was awfully embarrassing for poor Amy Amherst." McGonagall smiled silently at the memory.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"Well, everything was going quite smoothly. The hat's song was a bit unorthodox, a little vague you could say, but nothing really troubling. Naturally, she was the first student called up for the sorting. I tell you, I have seen that hat sit and ponder for quite a while before, but never this long. She sat there for a full five minutes before the snickering started to get out of control. She was glowing with embarrassment, but she stayed there. Finally, she stood up, took off the hat and walked it up to me, right in the middle of the staff table. I'll never in my life forget it. In her tiny little voice she looked up at me and said: 'The hat and I have decided that I will be in Ravenclaw.'"

"'The hat and I have decided?'" Ginny repeated incredulously.

"I honestly didn't know what to do," continued McGonagall, shrugging. "Anything I could think of would simply embarrass her beyond measure. I thought of walking her out of the room to talk privately, but surely she would never have heard the end of it. Finally I leaned over and whispered: 'What do you mean Miss Amherst?' and she responded: 'The hat told me to come up here and tell you we have decided I should be in Ravenclaw.' 'The hat told you?' I replied to her. Finally I got the idea that the sorting hat was trying to send me a message. Not really knowing what to do, I put the hat on myself."

"That must have been amusing for the students," said Ginny.

"There was no small amount of laughter, let me tell you, but I hardly heard it. That bloody old sorting hat had decided to change the entire way in which we conduct the sorting. 'I have seen all the evidence I need to see,' he said to me. 'It is time we stop making choices for the students, and start educating them to make their own. From now on, they will be the ones deciding their houses, with me as their guide.' I asked the hat why he hadn't shouted the name even if the decision was reached differently. 'That announcement is for Amy to make,' was all he said, and then he went silent. Not really sure what to do I just told Amy to shout 'Ravenclaw,' and go over and sit at the table. I thought the older students were going to riot, but that's how the sorting went. One by one they each got up there, had their time with the hat, shouted their house name and sat down."

"So Amy… the rest of them… they all decided where they wanted to be?" said Ginny. Harry, who had been staring silently at the sorting hat the entire time, had just realized she was now up and pacing in front of her chair. "Wow, I wish we had been given a choice. Don't you Harry? Granted I still would have chosen Gryffindor, but I was so nervous I was going to be put somewhere else. I would have felt much better about it, knowing I had a choice."

"Yes," Professor McGonagall nodded to Ginny. "Apparently, the hat seems to believe that it is beneficial for students to make their own choices early on. I have no idea how he made that decision. I've tried with the hat several times, but I can't get a straight answer out of him. I don't know why there was such a sudden change."

Harry stood up abruptly. Ginny and McGonagall stopped talking quickly when they saw the look of sudden comprehension on his face. He walked silently around the desk to the ragged old sorting hat. Without a word, he pulled it down onto his head. The two women simply stared at him as he stood there silently, a steely look of determination in his eyes. After a moment, he replaced the hat, and returned to his seat.

"Professor, I know why." 


	6. Chapter 5: Home Again

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 5: Home Again  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Dumbledore's influence at Hogwarts continues to show as the Sorting Hat's plot is revealed. Harry meets the staff and begins to plan for the year, and Ron and Hermione earn themselves a surprising gift when they help Harry and Ginny move into their beautiful new home. Before Harry knows it, September 1st arrives and all he can hope for is a normal first day. But when Harry Potter is involved, hardly anything is ever normal.

* * *

"Dumbledore knew about this?" Ginny stopped pacing and sat next to Harry.

"It would seem so," said Harry as McGonagall assumed Ginny's previous position, wandering in aimless circles.

"The number of secrets that man kept could have filled old Slytherin's secret chamber to the brim," McGonagall said, rubbing her chin and shaking her head. Ginny looked up curiously when she mentioned the Chamber of Secrets. Harry squeezed his wife's hand gently, thinking of the unpleasant memories she must have of that place.

"It's funny you should mention that Professor," said Harry.

"Why do you say that? And please, Harry, you may call me Minerva when it's just us."

"Of course. It's just interesting, because that's when Dumbledore and I had that conversation, right after we had all come up from the Chamber of Secrets."

"So Dumbledore seemed to think that the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor because you asked it to?" McGonagall asked distractedly.

"Well, not exactly." Harry thought for a moment to recall the memory exactly. "I had wanted to be in Gryffindor, but at the time I was more concerned with making sure I wasn't in Slytherin, so I decided not to put all my eggs in one basket, and I just repeated 'not Slytherin, not Slytherin,' over and over. I suppose the hat could tell I really wanted Gryffindor."

"Nevertheless, it seems Dumbledore was convinced you had made that choice," McGonagall speculated.

"Indeed," Harry replied, nodding.

There was a silence as the Headmistress's path turned around her desk and she stood, staring at the tattered, old Sorting Hat. "Of all the mad, wild, harebrained, and absolutely brilliant ideas Dumbledore must have given that silly old hat…"

"I miss him," Ginny said simply, looking up at the former Headmaster's portrait on the wall. Dumbledore, who had been sleeping along with the other portraits in the room, opened his eyes briefly and gazed proudly down at the three of them. The old man's image smiled in Harry's direction, gave him a gentle nod and a wink, and silently closed his eyes again.

"But that was ages ago." McGonagall broke the silence and returned to her seat behind the desk.  
"Why do you suppose the hat waited until just two years ago to start all of this?"

"Well, I suppose he was just making absolutely sure he was right. It was probably a bit of a gamble when he gave me that choice," Harry speculated. "I guess I was the hat's little experiment. You noticed that the change came the first sorting after Voldemort died, right?"

"The thought had occurred to me."

"Oh, I get it," said Ginny. "The hat decided to try it out on you. I guess he figured you'd end up being a pretty high profile student and well, a pretty high profile anybody really. So when you defeated Voldemort the hat was convinced he had made the right decision. You were given the choice, and look how you turned out."

"It's not like I did everything alone. I always had loads of help from everyone; you, Ron, and Hermione especially."

"Yes Harry, but choosing Gryffindor like that was also like choosing your friends. You made that decision Harry," Ginny said looking deeply into his eyes.

"And I'm glad," Harry smiled and kissed her.

"And that, I believe, is the big point," said Professor McGonagall. "You made that decision and you learned from it, and we can see quite clearly the rewards of that decision. It really is a fabulous idea. It gives the students a little more ownership of the decisions they make. And these days, the houses are so much more similar; it isn't as though a poor choice will have dire consequences."

"That's right," said Harry. "They'll all see the consequences and the rewards of their decisions. It really is a great learning experience."

"It sounds like a teachers' lounge in here," said Ginny laughing.

"Oh, speaking of that… Dear me, I nearly lost track of the time," said Professor McGonagall, rising. "Would you come with me to the staff room? I've got the staff assembled for a few summer housekeeping things. I'd like to introduce you properly. If you've got time, we'll be discussing a few things you should probably know about."

"Absolutely. I'd love to see everyone," said Harry as they followed her from the room.

"Harry, I think I'll let you two go on ahead and meet everyone," said Ginny, "I'll just head down to Hogsmeade for a while."

"Okay, that's probably a good idea. I doubt this would be very interesting for you. I'll meet you in The Three Broomsticks when we're done," said Harry, kissing her as the stone Gargoyle settled back into place. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Alright. It was lovely to see you Minerva," said Ginny.

"I suppose we'll be seeing a bit more of each other now, won't we Ginny? Please, send my regards to Molly and Arthur and your brothers."

"I will," said Ginny as she turned toward the front of the castle.

"What sort of things will we be talking about?" asked Harry as he and McGonagall turned down the corridor.

"Well, we'll be discussing a number of things. Most importantly, the candidates for Head Boy and Girl and the Prefects and Quidditch Captains. You won't be able to weigh in much, as you don't know any of the students really, but it will be helpful for you to hear about them and I'll want your feedback on what you'd like for Gryffindor. I, of course, have the final say over Head Boy and Girl as well as the Prefects, although I tend to take the Heads' of Houses recommendations for Prefects. They usually have a pretty good idea of who's best for the job. This time around we'll be depending on the other teachers to make an assessment of the candidates from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The Quidditch Captains, however, are entirely up to each team's Head of House."

"Who was Gryffindor's captain last year?" asked Harry. He was a bit concerned about having to make a decision on a captain he had never met or seen play.

"A fine young beater by the name of Otis Crawford," McGonagall replied as they rounded a corner and Harry pulled aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden passage. "Oh yes, thank you Harry. I'd forgotten about this one," she said as Harry followed her through. "As I was saying, Otis was a 6th year so he'll be returning for one more season if that's okay with you."

"Hey, I'm not messing with a winning plan," Harry said excitedly.

"I thought you might say that. If you're curious about his playing, you might check with your friend Ron Weasley. I believe the Cannons have been looking into recruiting Mr. Crawford."

"I'll do that," said Harry as they stopped outside the staff-room door. He looked at it ominously as he heard faint voices inside. "Do they know I'm here?"

"No," McGonagall shook her head with a gentle smile. "I didn't want to say anything one way or the other until I heard from you. They don't even know who I offered the job to." Harry nodded and gulped as she turned the knob and bustled inside importantly. "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, but you'll be pleased to know that I have just hired our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, Professor Harry Potter."

There was an instant of deafening silence before the room was filled with the sound of scraping chairs. One by one, everyone in the room, most of them his former professors, greeted Harry. Snape nodded darkly as he gripped Harry's hand without saying a word. Hagrid was practically beside himself with joy as he shook Harry's arm vigorously.

There were new faces as well. Professor Blackwell, a tall witch with jet-black hair and vivid blue eyes, exhibited a great deal of warmth, but held a demeanor that suggested she was not someone to cross. "Doreen is our Transfiguration teacher," said McGonagall as Professor Blackwell bowed graciously, firmly shaking Harry's shell-shocked hand. "And finally, I believe you already know our new Herbology teacher."

"Neville! What are you doing here?"

"That's Professor Longbottom to you… Professor Potter." Harry and Neville both laughed, shaking hands.

"Wow, it's great to see you," said Harry as everyone moved around the large table to their seats. He and Neville took two adjacent ones nearby. "So, teaching Herbology? That's great. You'll do really well."

"Thanks Harry, this is all a bit intimidating for me. At least you've got the experience from teaching the D.A."

"We'll see. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by it myself. Hey, doesn't this make you head of Hufflepuff House? But, you were a Gryffindor."

"I know, but when Professor McGonagall asked me I figured, 'what's the harm?' I could easily have been a Hufflepuff too, and if they need a head of house, who am I to play favorites."

"Well put Professor Longbottom," said the Headmistress as she took her seat at the head of the table. "I decided that, in light of the Sorting Hat's new method for house placement, a little relaxation of the other related traditions was in order."

"I suppose I'll always have some loyalties to Gryffindor," said Neville, "but when it comes to Quidditch, all bets are off."

"Don't start something you can't finish," said Harry, laughing. He couldn't help but remember his own personal history with the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. One of Gryffindor's most heartbreaking losses during his time as a student was to the Hufflepuffs.

"It appears we've got a new house rivalry brewing eh Severus?" said Professor Flitwick with a chuckle. Snape nodded and cracked a rare smile.

"Well then," said McGonagall in a businesslike voice, "Let's get to it shall we? Who has suggestions for Head Boy and Girl?"

Harry sat quietly and enjoyed the banter of his fellow teachers. He noticed they had an unnerving ability to carry on a conversation with two or three people talking all at once without a single person missing anything, except perhaps for Harry and Neville. Clearly some of the greatest minds in the country were at work right here in this school, and now he could hardly believe he was one of them. As Harry gazed around the room, his eyes lighted upon the courtyard outside. The spires of the castle rose majestically around him as he looked from window to window. He smiled broadly as he thought of so many happy memories that this wonderful place held for him. Once again, Hogwarts was going to be his home.

* * *

"I'm home!" Ginny yelled as she dumped her bag inside the front door. "Harry?"

"Hey, how was class?" Harry entered from the kitchen carrying a tray of food.

"Grueling. We had our practical exam today and I got paired up with the most hopeless case I've ever seen. I honestly don't even know how she got into the class; I swear she's a squib." Ginny shook her head in frustration and finally looked up at a grinning Harry. "Did you make me dinner?"

"Yes, just something simple. Come and sit on the couch. You can tell me all about it."

"Oh thank you Harry," Ginny sighed gratefully as she grabbed one of Harry's sandwiches, "but if I don't think about something else for a while I might explode. What did you do today? Did you get up to Hogwarts?"

"Not today. I had an idea yesterday so I sent Hedwig off to Minerva last night. She responded first thing this morning so I've been working on a few new things for the first-years' letters." Harry spoke softly as he massaged his wife's shoulders.

"Mm, that feels great. There's something new for the letters? You'll have to be careful, they're already quite thick aren't they?" Ginny laughed between mouthfuls.

"They'll be fine. It's not much really," Harry responded offhandedly. "We thought that since the kids will get to have some choice in which houses they go into, they should know a little bit about them coming in. So they'll be getting a little pre-Hogwarts homework. I spent most of the afternoon working out a good description for Gryffindor. It's hard to say everything I want to without making it too long, you know."

"I'll bet."

"Plus I want to be sure they're getting the right idea. I don't want people clambering to get into Gryffindor if that's not where they belong, so I have to be careful not to sugar-coat anything."

"Well, maybe I can take a look at it later. I'd enjoy the distraction."

"I'd like that. It's hard not to make it sound like the Sorting Hat's songs."

"Yeah?" Ginny laughed.

Harry laughed with her and they each chewed in silence for a moment. "So when do you want to start moving stuff up to Hogwarts?" he asked after a minute.

"Well, I was thinking: this class is going to be over in three weeks. I could take a break for the next term and we could really focus on getting settled up there. Have you seen the apartment yet?"

"No, but it should be great. Minerva told me she quite enjoyed it while she was Deputy. It has three bedrooms so we'll have plenty of space, and I won't need a study since I'll have two offices as it is."

"That's true. By the way, how are you planning to work out your time between two offices?"

"Well," said Harry pulling his legs up underneath him and shifting his weight as he grabbed another sandwich. "I think I'll probably favor the Deputy Headmaster's office. It's a little bit bigger and closer to Gryffindor Tower and it's where the apartment is. I can just do my classroom stuff in the Defense office and have everything else in the Deputy's office."

"Sounds like you've got this all worked out," Ginny said, turning around and sprawling across two cushions of the couch. "Did you get any work done on that forward for Hermione?"

"I finished it actually, the first draft at least." Harry pulled her feet up off the floor and set them lightly in his lap.

"Wow, you finished it! Well Hermione will be happy about that. But, I thought you said you were working on that description for Gryffindor all day," Ginny looked at him quizzically, resting her arm across her forehead.

"Well, I decided to do a little multi-tasking. I got stuck on the thing for Hogwarts so I decided I might get a little inspiration if I worked on the forward for a while. It was perfect, really, because the whole sub-theme of Hermione's book is a fresh, modern perspective on Hogwarts and that was kind of what I wanted for my Gryffindor profile. After a while I got a lot more ideas of what to say. Both projects kind of helped each other out. Am I boring you?"

"Mn Mh," Ginny shook her head with her eyes closed.

"Is my little lioness tired?" Harry said as he pulled himself up beside her on the couch. "Do you need me to carry you in to bed?" he said softly into her ear as he slipped his arm under her shoulders.

"Nmh," she whined, shifting so she was laying on her side facing him and wrapping her arms around his back. "Just lay with me here for a while."

* * *

"Harry, where should I put this box? It's labeled 'Defense Office'."

"There's a pile just over there in the corner, Hermione. We'll take all that stuff over later. Oy! Ron, watch it!" Harry ducked to avoid the long wooden post of a coat rack as it entered the room.

"Sorry Harry," Ron said as he gripped the errant pole more carefully.

"Just set that there by the door."

"Hey Harry, I'm going to need your help levitating the desk around that last corner," said Ron, brushing his hands off on one another in satisfaction as he set down the coat rack. "I couldn't see a thing coming up the stairs with that table."

"Sure thing. I'll be right there," Harry called after Ron as the redhead turned back into the hallway. "Hermione, we're just about done here. Why don't you go up and join Ginny. She's up in the apartment getting stuff situated."

"And where is that exactly?" Hermione asked patiently, her hands on her hips.

"Oh, right. The door's just over here." He led her to the far corner of the room where there was a small bit of blank wall between a window and the nearest bookshelf. "One of us always has to open the door for guests." Harry reached for his wand and was just about to drag it along the edge of a piece of molding when he seemed to change his mind, and returned his wand to his pocket. "I put in a little muggle style intercom, with a few improvements of course. Let's try it out shall we?" He pressed into a knot in the wood near where he had held his wand previously. Nothing moved but the knot glowed briefly.

"AAAH!" they heard Ginny scream. "What the bloody hell was that?" Her voice sounded like it was right next to them, but seemed to be coming from every direction at the same time.

"It's just me sweet-heart. I'm showing Hermione how to get in. Can you open the door for us?"

"Yeah, let me just get my wand. I'm going to have to get used to that bell." After a moment the blank wall creaked and slid quietly out of the way behind the bookcase, revealing a set of stairs that curved up to the right.

"Go on ahead. Ron and I will be up after we get the desk in here."

A few minutes later a sweaty Harry and Ron trudged up the circular staircase and in through a heavy wooden door. The area that lay beyond couldn't have looked more different from the ancient hardness of the entryway. Here was a wonderfully appointed, modern looking flat with all of the latest amenities, decorated in elegant hues and textures. The window hangings on the opposite wall flowed gracefully from one arched portal to the next. Ron's eyes were instantly drawn to what appeared to be an antique chess table in one corner. Above the soft cushions of the sofa was a massive mural: a vast aerial view Hogsmeade in the winter, complete with softly twinkling lights and tiny people bustling from shop to shop.

"Wow, you made it," said Ginny, emerging from the kitchen carrying several glasses over to the large oaken coffee table. "We thought maybe Peeves decided to help out with all the noise you were making down there, or was that an angry Hippogriff you were dragging around?"

"We had to shrink the desk to get it through the door and then we accidentally over enlarged it," said Harry rubbing a sore spot on his arm.

"Bloody thing would have been big enough for Hagrid, and it landed on my foot," Ron grumbled, looking about in strained wonder. "How did all of this get set up so fast? We only brought everything over here yesterday."

"It was like this when we came up here this morning," said Ginny, passing glasses around. "I don't know for sure, but I have a feeling Dobby showed up last night with some of his friends." Hermione looked around, trying hard to hide her concern for the existence of House-elf labor. "Don't worry about it Hermione. Dobby's still getting paid and it's not like we asked them to do it. It was probably his idea anyway."

"I suppose. You'll be sure to thank them though. I don't like the idea of the House-elves always assuming they have to do something."

"Of course I will Hermione," said Harry pleasantly. "Who do I look like, Lucius Malfoy? Oh shut up Ron. For the last time, it's not funny anymore."

Ron, who had just shuddered sarcastically at the name, laughed heartily. "Come on, he deserves it."

"The man's in Azkaban for the rest of his life. He's already getting what he deserves. It is kind of funny though, I have to admit," said Hermione, chuckling playfully and smiling at Ron.

"This place is really amazing," said Ron, looking around, peeking into each room. "I never would have known this was here back when we were in school."

"That's kind of the idea," said Harry. "Students would be bugging the teachers at home all the time if they knew where we slept. This didn't even show up on the Marauder's Map, so not even my dad or Sirius or Lupin knew about where the teachers lived."

"So, uh…" Ginny glanced silently over at Harry, who nodded. "Ron, would you mind joining us over here for a moment."

"Oh, yeah sure. What's up?" Ron, who had been admiring the chess table from mere inches away turned and sat with Hermione on the sofa.

"Ginny and I want to thank you both so much for helping us move everything up here. It would have taken ages to get everything here from Hogsmeade by ourselves."

"You're very welcome. We're so happy for both of you," said Hermione graciously.

"There's a little something we want to give you."

"Oh, that's not necessary," chirped Hermione

"No, really, we insist," said Ginny firmly.

"Well, okay, but nothing big." Hermione looked curiously over at Harry who smiled simply.

"You've both been really wonderful to us, and we know you can really use it, so we'd like you to have this." Harry pulled a small keychain from his pocket and dangled it in front of Ron and Hermione. "Here. I know you'll take good care of it."

"Harry…" Hermione appeared flummoxed.

Ron swallowed hard, not sure if he could believe what was happening. "Harry… Aren't those your keys to…?"

"Yes. We want you to have our house out in Godric's Hollow. It's all cleaned out and ready for you to move in," Harry said, beaming.

Hermione finally found her voice, "Harry, Ginny, you couldn't possibly… We couldn't possibly… take your house. Really, that's too much."

"Nonsense. We don't need it anymore and we know how badly you've wanted to get out of London," said Ginny brightly.

"But, what if you want to get away from Hogwarts, you know, for holiday or something?" Ron stammered.

"Here, we'll make you a deal. Keep a nice guest room set up and we'll call it even." Harry reached over and grabbed Ron's hand, putting the keys in his palm. "That way we can come and visit."

Hermione suddenly leapt to her feet and surrounded Harry and Ginny in a huge hug. "This is amazing. I can't believe you guys! How can we ever thank you?"

"Just use it well. I would have hated to just sell it. It would take forever to get it ready for Muggle use again. I'll be happy to see it lived in and loved," said Harry.

"Wow Ron, can you believe this?" Hermione pulled her husband up into an equally large embrace. "It's like Christmas came early! Harry, Ginny, you'll have to come over next week for Harry's birthday, and then again for yours Ginny. We'll have a big celebration with everybody."

"That would be wonderful," said Harry, standing with his arm around Ginny. "We'll be there."

* * *

"Ginny?" Harry whispered. "You awake?"

"Mm, yeah" Ginny grumbled turning over. "I can't sleep."

"Me either." They both shifted around in bed so they were facing each other.

"My stomach's all full of butterflies."

"Yours! I'm the one starting school tomorrow," said Harry. "I've got three million little thoughts running through my head."

"Isn't that normal?"

"Maybe for you it is," Harry said, smothering her with a pillow.

"Hey… Harry, that's not fair," Ginny squealed, struggling under his playful assault. "Harry please, you're mussing up my hair." Harry stopped suddenly and removed the pillow.

"You're bed hair?" he chuckled, taking a few strands and twirling it between his fingers.

"It's not funny," she said in mock protest, turning away from him.

"Aw…" Harry cooed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him and resting his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I won't mess up your beautiful hair anymore."

"Well, okay," she conceded and snuggled back against him and sighing deeply, contented in his arms. "You smell nice. Is that aftershave?" she reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.

"Yeah. Just a nervous thing I guess. I needed to do something with my hands."

"I see…" she said, turning to face him again. Kissing him gently she leaned close to his ear. "I'll give you something to do with your hands."

"Are you getting fresh with me?"

"Yeah," she grinned playfully, tickling his bare chest. "Besides, it doesn't appear that either of us is going to be getting to sleep anytime soon. It would be such a waste to just lay here all night."

"Too right you are," said Harry, stroking her soft, red hair. "Ginny, I love you so much."

"I love you too," said Ginny, rolling up on top of Harry and kissing him deeply.

* * *

"Time to get up Professor!" Ginny said brightly, setting down a tray of food and pulling open the curtains. The sunlight beat down on Harry's head as he sat up, looking around as though he didn't quite know where he was.

"What time is it?" said Harry, looking around for his glasses.

"About half past noon," Ginny replied, handing Harry his familiar wire rimmed spectacles and his dressing gown. "Come up on the bed and have some breakfast."

"Huh?" Harry said, gathering his bearings as he pulled the dressing gown tightly around him. "What am I doing on the floor?"

"Well, as I recall, that part was your idea," Ginny grinned, taking a bite of bacon with a satisfying crunch. "Not that I'm complaining. It was kind of fun."

"Looks like a tornado came through here," Harry said, surveying the rumpled sheets as he climbed up on the mattress next to his wife.

"I'll say," she grinned at him as she leaned over and kissed him softly. "Come on, eat up. You've got a lot to do between now and when the kids arrive."

"Really, like what?" said Harry, taking a ravenous mouthful of toast and bacon. He was suddenly very hungry.

"Well, first you'll have to go down and check over everything in your offices four more times. Then you'll come up here and dig through the closet for a while. At that point you'll probably be too anxious to actually do anything so I'll invite you for a walk around the grounds to calm your nerves. Then we'll come back up here and you'll change your mind about ten more times about which robes you want to wear."

"Are you saying I'm paranoid?" Harry shot back between mouthfuls.

"No, not at all. I'm sure I'd be the same way if I were the one starting school today. Just the same, let's try to skip most of that and just take the afternoon to relax a bit instead." Ginny looked lovingly into Harry's eyes. "You don't need to be getting yourself all worked up like that."

"I know," said Harry through a mouthful of food. She glared at him as he opened his mouth to continue. He held up a finger as he swallowed. "Sorry, I'm just nervous, I guess. Hey, at least I'll have some common ground with the first-years." They both laughed.

"Yeah, I suppose you will. Boy, do you remember what it was like? I was scared to death. I thought for sure something awful was going to happen and I'd have Fred and George giving me a hard time about it all year."

"It all turned out alright didn't it?" said Harry, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Thanks for breakfast sweetie."

"My pleasure," said Ginny, sliding out of the bed and picking up the empty food tray. "Go get dressed. We can walk down and see how Hagrid's doing. I think he's down making sure the boats are all set up for the first-years."

* * *

Several hours later Harry stood in the deserted entrance hall, nervously tapping his fingers on the banister of the grand staircase. He glanced into the Great Hall as a few house-elves scurried about, getting a few last minute items in place. The Great Hall seemed a lot smaller than it used to. He remembered back to the first time he saw it. Now it seemed so much different from then, warm and inviting as always, but not at all intimidating. What was intimidating was trundling up the pathway this very moment.

He could see the other teachers taking their seats up at the staff table, talking quietly amongst themselves. Professor McGonagall looked up and smiled at Harry, nodding as if to say "You'll do fine." Harry gulped and nodded back appreciatively. He could hear the thud of hooves and the creaking sound of the carriages rattling their way up to the castle now. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes for a moment. He heard the first few carriages grind to a stop and voices began to emerge. With a last calming sigh, he walked over and pulled open the doors.

A swarm of chattering students instantly flooded the entrance hall and their voices echoed high into the cavernous space above. Everything seemed to be going rather well for the first few minutes. Every now and then students would do a double take as they passed by, scrutinizing Harry briefly before making their way into the Great Hall. Harry was just thinking they were all going to overlook his presence when a group of older students walked in, passing very near to him. One of them, a tall boy with light brown, wavy hair, who was wearing Gryffindor robes, looked twice and suddenly blurted "What is Harry Potter doing here?"

The crowed suddenly got much quieter as those who could hear the boy stopped and stared. Harry felt the heat of dozens of curious faces looking up at him. For a split second he panicked before he regained his composure and furled his shoulders in an authoritative posture. "That's Professor Potter to you, Mr. Simmons." The boy blanched. "Oh, yes. I know who you are. I worked with your mother in the ministry. Now, move it along. Go on now everyone, inside. The first years will be here any minute."

At that moment, a loud squelching sound erupted directly over Harry's Head. A few of the younger students giggled.

"Peeves, now is not the time!" Harry bellowed without looking up.

"But Peevesie has a new song for the new Professor. I must sing it for all these lovely students."

"You'll do no such thing." Harry turned to look up at the poltergeist, hovering over his head. "Don't mess with me Peeves," Harry said darkly. Peeves ignored him and closed his eyes as he postured himself to sing.

"Ready? Here we go! _Little proffy Potter, he came twelve years ago. And when_—AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Peeves screamed and zoomed up the stairs, around a corner and out of sight, chased closely by a silvery shape that streaked up behind him.

"Now then…" Harry gave a satisfied nod toward where Peeves had been, and turned back to the students, still holding his wand firmly. "Everyone, inside. Now!"

With a very subdued murmuring, the mass of students continued to shuffle toward the great hall. Professor Snape could be seen, poking his head through the door. He glanced up the stairs after Peeves and then at Harry. Harry raised his eyebrows and cocked his head slightly to one side. Snape seemed satisfied, and turned, following the last student into the hall. Harry stood there with a confident smirk on his face as he watched the last few students take their seats along the house tables. After a moment, there were three resounding thuds on the front doors. Harry pulled the doors open in grand fashion. Looking prouder than he ever had, Hagrid smiled as he looked at Harry.

"The firs'-years, Professor Potter." 


	7. Chapter 6: Questions and Dirty Tricks

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 6: Assorted Questions and Dirty Tricks  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry presides over the sorting ceremony and we meet some of his new students. His first day gets off to a rather rocky start, but Harry is more than capable of adapting to his situation.

* * *

"Thank you, Professor Hagrid," Harry said with a dignified nod. "I will take them from here." 

"Whoa! Harry Potter's going to be our teacher?"

"Wicked!"

"Professor! Professor, over here! Are we going to—?"

Harry held up his hand for silence, glad that the first years were at least nervous enough to do as they're told. Those who had started blurting out questions at him were distinctly in the minority. Most of the students bore the rather petrified look he remembered seeing on his fellow classmates when he had first entered the castle. "I'm sorry, we don't have time for any questions at the moment. The Headmistress will speak to a number of your concerns after you are sorted. Follow me please." Harry turned and led the pack of anxious children into the Entrance Hall, stopping just outside the door to the chamber opposite the Great Hall. "Now then, if everyone will look up here for a moment.

"These four hourglasses," Harry pointed, "each represent one of the four Hogwarts Houses. I trust you all did your homework, so you will know already that they are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Remember that your house will be very important to you while you are here. Much of your time will be spent in your house dormitory and common room. Your house will be like your home while you are here. These hourglasses record the number of points your house has earned at any given time. Your good behavior and hard work will earn you points for your house. Any misbehavior or rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup as a reward. Let this be a reminder that your behavior reflects not only on you, but on your house as well. Now then, this way please."

The students followed silently as Harry led them into the side chamber. Once they were all inside he turned and looked at them all. Their bright faces appeared simultaneously curious and frightened.

"I am going to leave you here for just a moment to see if everything is ready for the sorting ceremony. While I am gone, think about what you and your parents discussed over the summer. Think about the four houses and how each might represent who you are. I will warn you, you are going to be up in front of the entire school, and I don't blame you at all for being nervous," Harry added with a smile. "Just remember to be yourselves and take your time. This ceremony is for you, and you'll never get to do it again. Now, I'll just to and see if they're ready for you." Harry walked quickly through the door and across the hall.

Savoring his few seconds alone as he crossed the Entrance Hall, Harry nodded to himself reassuringly before peeking into the Great Hall. The four tables were now packed with chattering students, waiting impatiently for the feast to begin. The staff table was nearly full, with only one empty seat. After a silent nod to the Headmistress, Harry turned back across the hall.

The double doors to the Great Hall gave a satisfying clunk as Harry pushed them open a moment later. Conversations throughout the hall died down to a dull rumble as the first-years followed Harry up to the front. He glared at a few of the older students as they pointed and whispered behind their hands. He feared that this curiosity, which was most likely directed at him, would further unnerve the new students. Despite knowing full well who Harry Potter was, the first-year students had seemed to brush his fame aside temporarily, it being only one of several unfamiliar and unexpected elements they were trying to process all at once. The returning students, however, saw Harry as the only unusual thing in the room and he began to feel the heat of their stares as he turned in front of the staff table and lined the new students across the width of the room.

After placing the Sorting Hat on its four-legged stool, Harry walked off to the side. He barely heard a word of the Hat's song as he stood there thinking over everything he had done so far. He tried hard to ignore the many faces that were turned toward him instead of the singing hat. As applause rang through the hall he crossed to the center of the room again. With his back to the house tables, Harry gave the first-years another comforting smile as he stood next to the Sorting Hat holding a small scroll of parchment. "Now, when I call your name, you will come and sit on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat on your head. Don't worry; we cannot hear what the Hat is saying to you. That conversation is a private matter between you and the Sorting Hat. Just take your time, and when your house has been decided, shout your house name and join your fellow students here at your new house table." Harry gestured to the four tables behind him without turning around.

The returning students seemed to forget about Harry's presence for a while as they surveyed the new additions to their houses. Each table cheered merrily as, one by one, the new students joined them. Before Harry knew it, "Young, Terrence" was taking his seat at the Slytherin table, and he quickly marched the Sorting Hat and stool out of the room. When he returned from the Headmistress's office, everybody was already eating. Grateful that the students were fully distracted by the feast, Harry crossed the room and took his seat next to Professor McGonagall as subtly as he could.

"Very nicely done Harry," said Professor McGonagall. "Would you care for a drumstick?"

"Yes, thank you," Harry said gratefully as he filled his plate. He tried not to look out into the room too often as he ate heartily with the rest of the staff. Seeing the room from this perspective was the first, thoroughly unfamiliar thing he had encountered since the students had arrived.

"Did you do something special?" McGonagall asked conversationally. "Those new students seemed unusually comfortable through that whole process. I've never seen the whole lot with so much confidence."

"Well, I guess I wouldn't know if I were doing anything special," Harry said with a weak smile. "I just tried to make sure they knew what was about to happen and reassure them that everything would go smoothly. Honestly, I think I was as nervous as they were."

"It seems you formed a bit of an alliance with them then."

"I guess you could say that," Harry chuckled.

Before long, McGonagall was rising as the last of the puddings disappeared. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. To those of you returning, welcome back; to those of you who are new, a very hearty welcome from all of us. While I am on the subject of new arrivals, I must announce two new staff members. Most of you know that Professor Orchards retired at the end of last year. Over the summer, our dear Professor Sprout also decided that her time here was at an end. I am sure we will all miss them both." There was a smattering of applause and murmurs as she announced these names. "I am pleased to welcome our new Herbology teacher, and head of Hufflepuff house, Professor Longbottom." Applause filled the hall as Neville rose and nodded genially to the students below. "And, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, head of Gryffindor house, and Deputy Headmaster," McGonagall paused, her eyes lingering on a few choice students as she gazed about the room, "will be Professor Potter."

McGonagall began the rousing applause that ensued as Harry rose self-consciously. The entire school still seemed a bit curious about his presence but they appeared to be accepting it quite enthusiastically. The Gryffindor table was ecstatic with their cheers as Harry bowed several times, laughing to himself as the ovation continued for several awkward moments.

"Now then, I have just a few other announcements before we turn in for the night," Professor McGonagall continued after everyone had sat down. "I forgot to mention also, that Professor Potter has agreed to be our flying instructor and Quidditch referee." There was a great deal of murmuring around the room. The Gryffindors appeared quite ready to reprise the applause they had just finished before the Headmistress waved them off. "Those wishing to try out for their house Quidditch teams should contact Professor Potter to sign up. Team captains will be posting the dates and times of tryouts within the next few days, so keep watch of your common room notice board.

"Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic is strictly forbidden in the hallways. You may also see a list of prohibited items posted at his office on the ground floor. Now I'm sure you are all quite ready for bed. You'll want to be well rested when classes start in the morning. Please be down here for breakfast in time to receive your class schedules before 9 o'clock. Off you go then. Good night." With a great scraping of benches, the students slowly filed their way out of the hall. Harry could hear the prefects bellowing importantly at the first-years as the staff began to work their way into the room adjacent to the Great Hall.

"Thank you all for being here," Professor McGonagall said as she looked from one staff member to the next. "I think we can all look forward to another wonderful year. I'll see you all in the morning." And with that, they each went their various ways.

Harry walked the halls slowly, replaying the evening's events in his head. "They're not so bad," he said to himself as he climbed the stairs, feeling much more confident about the next day than he had just a few hours earlier. Hagrid and Ginny had overwhelmed him with bits of encouragement and comfort all day, but there's nothing like actually dangling your feet in the pool to get a feel for the water. Confidence, Harry decided, would have to be the key, both to his own performance and controlling the students. Without realizing it, he suddenly found himself standing in front of the familiar portrait of the fat lady.

"Password?" she said for the third or fourth time, Harry wasn't sure.

"Oh, sorry. Philosopher's Stone," Harry replied simply, smiling at the fat lady's choice of password.

"I thought you'd like that one Professor. It's good to have you back," sang the Fat Lady before swinging forward. Harry walked slowly, savoring the memories as he entered the Gryffindor common room. He hadn't been here in years but everything appeared exactly the same. The squashy armchairs looked just as inviting. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth. Harry smiled as he looked around the room, glancing from one dormitory staircase to the other. Suddenly he heard a giggle from the far corner of the room.

"You girls get up to bed now, I won't have my students walking around like zombies tomorrow," he said firmly as two fourth-year girls in their dressing gowns ran, blushing, over to the girl's staircase and out of sight. Surveying the empty common room, Harry nodded with satisfaction, and turned out the portrait hole.

* * *

"That's 10 points each from Ravenclaw. Another word and it will be detention for all three of you. Now take a seat and mind your own business." Harry was doing his best to remain calm in the chaos of the Great Hall the next morning. A group of fifth-year Ravenclaws turned dejectedly and sat facing away from Harry, glancing sourly over their shoulders. "Gryffindors please," Harry pleaded, pulling a pair second-years up by the lapels of their robes, "I have clearly marked where you are to sit this morning. Please observe carefully. There are seven sections, one for each year. First-years are nearest the doors; seventh-years are nearest the staff table. This is just for today so I can pass out schedules. I'm sorry, I just don't know all your names yet." 

"Professor Potter, could I—"

"Sorry, no questions now Miss…"

"Oh, uh, Vance. Emily Vance."

"Yes, Miss Vance. Please, if you'll take your seat here, I'll be passing out the schedules in a moment. If you still desperately need something, see me afterwards."

Harry had hoped Professor McGonagall would have been able to spare some time this morning to help him identify students and pass out their class schedules more efficiently. He was forced to go it alone, however, because, by all appearances, Neville and the Hufflepuffs were in much worse shape than the Gryffindors, and she spent the entire breakfast hour running about, helping Neville with his students. Indeed things seemed to be getting a bit better as most of the Gryffindor students were now seated.

"It appears the first-years are all seated and ready to go," Harry said, counting heads quickly as he rounded the end of the long house table. "Well done, 50 points." With those words the small group of first-years nearest him all smiled and elbowed each other, nodding. Several older students who were lingering lazily seemed to notice and quickly assembled at the table. Soon the entire house was quietly watching and waiting. Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled, looking around appreciatively at the first-years who now had very smug expressions on their faces.

With everyone finally seated Harry began calling names as he handed out schedules, working his way up along the table. Before long most of the younger Gryffindors had finished up their breakfasts and began making their way to class. Harry glanced sympathetically at a very red faced Neville as he ran this way and that, shouting names at the mass of students crowding around him. "Alright sixth-years, that's you done," Harry said, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. "Miss Vance, I will be right with you. Please let me just finish these off and I can talk to you in a minute. I'll give you a note if you're late to class."

Harry turned to the seventh-years and began to call off names. "Are we going to have a problem Mr. Simmons?" Harry glared at the wavy-haired boy he had confronted the previous evening, who was smirking and whispering behind his hand to a classmate.

"No Professor," said the boy, trying hard not to laugh.

"For your information, Eric," Harry lingered on the boy's first name and the boy suddenly became deathly quiet, "I do, in fact, remember you from my seventh year, and no, you shouldn't be expecting special treatment in my class just because your mother knows me or because you joined the D.A. in your first year." Eric was suddenly ashen faced as Harry loomed over him, holding out his class schedule. "I see you have N.E.W.T. level Potions first today. I might recommend you trust your instinct to go back up to Gryffindor Tower and retrieve your textbook before class. I'd like not to see Professor Snape take too many points from Gryffindor on the first day."

With that, Harry turned away as the group leaned in and began to question their still stunned classmate. Harry could hear small snippets of their whispered comments, "How did he know…" "He remembered you…" "That was creepy…"

"Now, Miss Vance, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"It's alright Professor. That Eric Simmons is an arrogant git anyway."

"What can I do for you? Please, take a seat." They sat facing each other on one side of the house table as Harry pushed a few dirty plates and cups out of the way.

"Thank you sir. I have a little bit of a problem. I think my grandmother got me the wrong books."

"Well, let me see," Harry picked up her class schedule and examined the large stack of schoolbooks she had set down on the table. "These ones here for Transfiguration, and Muggle Studies are correct, as are these here," Harry flipped through her pile of books checking them against her class list. "But I'm afraid you're right. The ones for Defense against the Dark Arts, Charms, and – oh dear – Potions are, in fact, not."

"Oh, I knew it. I knew I should have gone with her to Diagon Alley. It's not really her fault, you see, she's just a bit forgetful sometimes. How could I be so stupid?" Emily began to breathe frantically, a very panicked look in her sapphire blue eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Harry said, patting her on the arm to calm her. "It'll be alright. Don't worry. You're Emmeline Vance's daughter aren't you?"

"Yes," said Emily, trying to hold back tears of panic as well as sadness at the mention of her mother.

"She was a very brave woman, your mother. I was so sorry to hear when she died, and then your father too. I'm sure it's very hard for you." A small nod and gentle sniff was her only response as she studied her hands in her lap. "Don't worry about your books. You'll only have Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts to worry about today. I'll speak with Professor Flitwick, I'm sure he'll have one for you to borrow. We won't need books in Defense class today so, no worries there. I'll send these straight to Flourish and Blott's for replacements." Harry sorted out her incorrect textbooks. "I'm sure they can all be here in the morning and if they can't, I'll go down personally and pick them up so you'll be ready for Potions tomorrow. Would that be alright?"

"You would do that?"

"Of course. This wasn't your fault. You shouldn't be falling behind in your first week of classes just because your grandmother got the wrong books."

"Thank you Har… I mean Professor. You're every bit as kind as everyone says you are."

"Well, thank you. That's very nice of you to say," Harry smiled warmly as he leaned closer, speaking softly. "Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything, let me know. I'll understand if you'd be more comfortable with someone else, but I would be willing, if you wish."

Emily finally looked up and dried her eyes on the corner of her robes. "I'd like that. Professor, I realize this is personal but, your parents were killed too right?"

"That's right."

"I thought so. Yes, I think it would be nice to talk sometime… maybe… you know, just in case." She stood up, color returning to her cheeks. "Sometimes my friends get a little sick of talking about it. They're really wonderful and they'd never say anything, but now and then, I can feel that I'm dragging them down."

"I know how that can be," Harry said, sliding Emily's books back into her bag as he stood. "Anytime you want, just let me know okay?" She nodded gratefully. "Okay. Best get going. Classes will be starting soon." Harry's eyes followed her as she bounced happily out the door. Looking around the room he saw a few stray students milling about the other tables. All of the Gryffindor's had left.

"She's really a very good student," came McGonagall's voice from behind Harry.

"I have no doubt that she is. She's strong," said Harry. "If I remember correctly, her father died just days before her first term here at Hogwarts."

"It was hard for the first few weeks, but she seems to have a very strong drive. She's only a fourth-year and she's already convinced she wants to be an Auror, just like her mother."

"She'll do well. I can feel that about her." Harry paused for a moment looking through the empty doorway. "Well, I'd better get moving. I've got class in a few minutes."

* * *

Harry's morning classes didn't go as smoothly as he had hoped. He was instantly barraged by a storm of questions from the second he walked into the room. He fought desperately for the entire period to control the students. His second class, the fifth-years of Hufflepuff, finally settled down just long enough for him to give his start of term warnings about how important their O.W.L. year was. It was a much more subdued Harry that sat with a grunt next to Professor McGonagall at lunch. "How is your first day going so far Harry?" she asked, pouring him a cup of strong coffee. 

"Alright. Could be better. We didn't get a whole lot done today. But, at least the fifth-years have been sufficiently reprimanded about their O.W.L.s," he said sarcastically.

"Well, I suspect it will be harder for you, at least until the students get used to the idea of having someone like you as their teacher," McGonagall added wisely.

Harry smiled and began eating slowly. "I've been trying to remember back to what all of my professors did, you know, hoping something would come to mind that could win them over."

"That's a wise course of action," McGonagall observed between bites.

"Unfortunately most of my Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers aren't exactly worthy of imitation."

"Your professors aren't your only teachers Harry. Don't forget, you've learned a lot of different things, from a lot of different people. I don't have an easy answer for you. Just remember to play to your skills."

"Yeah…" Harry said absently, pushing the food on his plate around as he stared into the distance.

"Eat up there, you're looking a bit peckish. I'm sure you'll feel better once you've had a proper lunch. Don't worry Harry, it will get easier once you get a feel for it."

"Thanks Professor," Harry said, rising suddenly. "I'm sorry I've got to go get ready for class. I've just had an idea."

* * *

The first class after lunch was just as rambunctious as the morning ones had been. They entered the room chattering loudly and horsing around as they jostled their way to their seats. Their faces were alive with excitement as they discussed the questions they wanted to ask. "Can you believe Harry Potter is our teacher?" "Did you see his scar?" "It looks so much more real than it does in the pictures." "I got a really good look at it when he walked by at breakfast!" "Hey, you're late." "Who cares? He's not here yet." "Who's going to ask him how he did it?" "Did what?" "Did… you know…" "Oh, I'm not going to ask him." "Why don't you ask him?" "Me? Why me?" "Because you're always so nosy about everything." "So what? You're the one that wants to know." "Oh, and you don't?" "That's not the point." "Then what is the point?" "Hey, what happened to your hair?" "What about my hair?" "Whoa, how did you get it to turn purple like that?" "What do you mean purple. Wait, yours is blue!" "What!" "LOCOMOTOR MOR—" "EXPELLIARMUS!" 

The room was suddenly dead silent as a wand flew through the air toward the back of the room. Emily Vance was standing by her desk near the front of the room with her wand hand held out, breathing very hard and looking determinedly at a the back of the room. The students slowly followed her gaze and lighted upon an unfamiliar looking boy in the back, holding two wands. After a moment's silence, the strange boy walked silently to the front of the room, handing the wand back to a very wide eyed Emily. "Well done Miss Vance. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Wha—?" said several students as they leaned back in their chairs, trying to put as much distance between them and this stranger and Emily at the same time.

"What's all this?" said the boy, looking at their petrified faces. "You should be thanking her. For all you know, she could have saved your lives."

The confused students stared around at each other, but still couldn't find words to speak.

"Perhaps I didn't properly introduce myself." The boy closed his eyes in concentration for a moment, his short blonde hair darkened and moved around as his face elongated. After a moment, he was six inches taller than he had been. With a final shake of his head, the hair became jet-black and messy, and a lightning-shaped scar appeared on his forehead. "My name is Professor Potter, and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry said formally. "You lot should be very grateful that's who I am and that you have a very wary classmate." He gestured again to Emily. "She managed to stop me before I had even marked half of you. Had I been a dark wizard," Harry gestured to a group of students on one side of the classroom, each with different colors of violently bright hair, "you four there might be seriously injured, or even… dead," Harry finished dramatically. The whole class looked up at him in rapt terror.

"Professor," one boy found his voice, "it's not fair. I mean… that was a pretty dirty trick." Harry glared daggers at the boy who cringed and sank down in his seat. After a moment, Harry softened his expression and waved his wand, restoring the natural hair color of each student.

"Dirty tricks… Mr. Jackson isn't it?" The boy nodded meekly. "Dirty tricks, Mr. Jackson, are how the dark arts – and dark wizards, I might add – work. Each and every one of you, with the exception of Miss Vance here, seems to have become rather complacent. I do not intend to frighten you. But I must impress upon you the seriousness of what has just happened. Miss Vance, if I may, what was the first thing you noticed that bothered you?"

"Well, usually I'm the first one to class," she blushed profusely as a couple of her classmates jeered and rolled their eyes.

"Now, now," said Harry "There's nothing wrong with being early to class. A couple of you could benefit simply from being on time to class." He indicated two of the students whose hair had previously been discolored. "Next time it will be detention. Go on Miss Vance."

"Well, normally I'm the first one here, and I saw someone… you… sitting in the back there, reading."

"And this bothered you because?"

"I didn't recognize you."

"I see," Harry said slowly.

"But, I thought maybe some other students were joining us or you were just someone that had changed a lot over the summer, and since I couldn't really see you properly, I didn't want to look stupid introducing myself to someone I already knew."

"That's fair. Then what? I noticed you were busy reading through your Muggle Studies book; while everyone else here was engaged in what I must say was a fascinating discussion," Harry glared around at everyone, "which I'm sure they will wait to continue until after class is over."

"Well, you already know I don't have my book for this class yet, otherwise I would have been reading it of course," Emily said with a blush.

"Indeed," Harry said, nodding.

"I thought I heard something funny, and then I felt…"

"Yes?"

"I felt something weird on the back of my neck, like something wasn't right."

"I see," Harry said dramatically, rubbing his chin.

"I thought maybe someone was sneaking up on me, so I grabbed my wand as carefully as I could, trying hard not to move. I heard something again, it sounded like an incantation. So, I turned around quickly."

"And that's when you saw me."

"Yes, you were…"

"Perhaps it would be better if we demonstrate. You stand there, where you were…" Harry walked to the back of the room. When he turned around, the blonde haired boy was there again, instead of Harry. He sat quietly at the desk and pointed his wand at one of his former victims, who ducked under his desk self-consciously. "It's alright, I'm not actually going to cast a spell this time. I expect this is about what I looked like when you turned around Miss Vance?"

"Yes."

"And when you put my suspicious behavior together with the fact that you didn't recognize me, you must have thought something was terribly wrong," Harry offered.

"Right, so I said the first jinx I could think of that wouldn't actually hurt anybody."

"Yes," said Harry, returning to his normal appearance and walking to the front of the room again. "The famous Leg-Locker Curse. Incidentally, I might suggest a slightly more comprehensive jinx in the future. I still would have had my hands free. Perhaps the Full Body Bind? I do thank you for your restraint though. It's best not to overreact. Was there anything else you wanted to say?"

"I don't think so."

"Well then," Harry turned to the rest of the class as Emily returned to her chair, "does anyone else have any relevant comments or questions?" A tentative hand went up in the front corner opposite Emily. "Yes, Mr. Dobson?"

"How did you change your face and your hair like that?"

"Excellent question. I am what is known as a Metamorphmagus, which means I can change my appearance at will."

"Wow, that would be wicked. Can you teach us how?"

"I expect not, I'm afraid," Harry said sympathetically. "It is an extremely difficult skill to learn if you aren't born with it. I was quite sure I would never be able to do it until I realized that I actually was born with a little bit of the skill. As silly as it sounds, I had been able to control the length of my hair without knowing it for years. I still, to this day, struggle to keep it straight though." Everybody laughed as he patted his hair absently. "Good one, anybody else?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?" asked a tall girl with wavy brown hair.

"I'm assuming you are referring to my Metamorphmagus abilities," Harry responded. When the girl nodded he continued, "I learned it while I was in training to become an Auror."

"What's it like being an Auror?" "Did you like working at the Ministry?" "Professor, can you—"

"Now, now, these questions are getting a bit off topic." Harry raised his voice instantly as the students were overcome by their own insatiable curiosity. "Some of these are the sorts of questions you might want to ask your Head of House –which is me I suppose – on a more personal level. If any of you would like career counseling I would be happy to make an appointment, but I will not answer random personal questions in class. Now," Harry turned to his desk and grabbed his copy of the text book, "your homework for next time, will be to read the chapter about concealment, concentrating especially on Metamorphmagi, and also the sections on page 121 through 154 about dark magic detectors. I would like you each to write 300 words on your choice of dark detector and tell me the strengths and weaknesses of that particular item."

"Professor?" Emily looked confused. "Three hundred words… That's not very much is it?"

"Quiet down!" Harry said to the room as several students made threatening comments and gestures toward Emily for daring to suggest that they hadn't been assigned enough homework. "It's a good question and you ought to be glad she asked it, because if these essays aren't up to snuff, I'll be reassigning them with a much longer requirement. I said 300 words because I believe it is important to be concise, however you must also be extremely thorough so you mustn't be wasteful. It is important to be able to convey as much information as possible in a small amount of space. Try your best to keep these between 300 and 350 words. I'm looking for an overview, not a comprehensive explanation. You'll do your fair share of those over the next two years in preparation for your O.W.L.s. There's the bell. Have a good afternoon."

Harry smiled happily as the students filed from the room, laughing and joking at the fact that Harry had assigned them so little homework. He made a mental note to talk to Tonks about this class; he was sure she'd get a good laugh out of it.

"Thank you for your good work today Miss Vance," Harry said as Emily finished packing up her things and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. "You have very good reflexes. Trust your instincts. They seem to be spot on so far."

"Thank you Professor."

"I realize you don't have your book yet. I'm afraid it's a new one and I don't have any spares. If you would like more time for the assignment I will understand."

"No, I think it will be alright if I get my books tomorrow. I'll have enough time after that, before the next class."

"Very good." Harry nodded slowly and smiled. "Have a good day." Harry watched fondly as she smiled and turned out the door. Whistling to himself, he gathered his papers and book and stowed them in his office before happily marching off to see Ginny.


	8. Chapter 7: Past and Present

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 7: Past and Present  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: The Slytherins' and Gryffindors' first flying session has other lessons as well. Hermione visits for a guest lecture and to celebrate her birthday, and to revisit one of the most important moments of her life.

* * *

Harry's glasses rattled violently as the wind whipped through his hair. He clenched his jaw in concentration and his eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead. With a sudden look of terror he ducked, closely missing the outcropping he'd been attempting to fly over. With a groan of frustration he regained his grip after the broom did several spirals in retaliation for his sudden maneuver. "This is never going to work," Harry said in defeat as he turned toward the ground. He landed near two rows of neatly arranged school brooms, all lined up for the afternoon flying lesson. "What utter rubbish," he said as he threw the broom down in disgust.

Harry looked up to a small window on the second floor. With a flick of his wand the window opened. A split second later a yelp erupted from the open window and Harry's trusty old broomstick came flying out to him. As he caught it, a red-faced Ginny appeared in the window brandishing her wand. With a silent look of apology on his face, Harry blew a kiss in her direction before she snapped the window shut.

The bell rang distantly and Harry quickly tapped his Firebolt with his wand as a group of students began rounding the corner of the castle wall. Where the once gleaming polished handle and flawlessly trimmed birch twigs of his Firebolt had just been hovering, was now a broom as tatty and worn as the ones lying on the lawn. He stood confidently as the first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins assembled.

"Well then, good to see you're all ready for your first flying lesson," Harry said after all of the students had gathered. "I hope you've had a productive day of lessons and are now ready to release all of that pent up energy you've been storing all day. Focusing your energy and making the broom an extension of your body is the best way to become an accomplished flyer. There are always inherent, unavoidable dangers involved in flying so we'll start slowly until you've become proficient at the basics. However, there is little to be gained by being overly cautious or timid when handling a broom. It will respond much better if you are firm and confident when you handle it.

"Now, let's each step up to the left side of a broom." The students formed two lines facing each other as Harry stood facing down the center. "Hold your right hand over your broom and say 'up.'" A Chorus of 'up's soon rang through the grounds. Within a few seconds most students were holding firmly onto their temperamental broom handles. Three of the students were growing quite frustrated as their brooms twitched and rolled about but didn't seem to be lifting off of the ground at all. "You must be in command of the broom," Harry said firmly. "Show it that you are in charge." Two more brooms finally flew into their respective student's hands, leaving one Slytherin boy absolutely mortified. Harry walked down the line and kneeled next to the boy who was now on the verge of tears. "Mr. Crane, do you remember what we talked about in class the other day?"

"About Janet's bloody nose?" The Slytherins giggled as a girl standing right next to where Harry was kneeling blushed lightly. The boy seemed to cheer up a bit when he made his classmates laugh.

"No, Mr. Crane. Try again." Harry shook his head but smiled as he glanced at Janet, who was now trying hard to stifle her own giggle.

"Um… That thing about focusing?"

"Yes," said Harry, indicating that the boy should go on.

"Um, concentrating on just the one thing and ignoring everything else."

"Correct!" Harry said brightly. "Think of that when you look down at your broom. Don't think of anything but the broom. Just tune everything out. Use all of your senses to concentrate on the broom. See it, smell it, hear it, feel it, taste it." Several students laughed before Harry waved them quiet. "Nothing else matters, just the broom. Now, when you're ready, and with confidence this time, say 'Up!'"

"Up!" the boy's voice cracked. The broom twitched.

"Try again, with more feeling, from your gut!" Harry was now speaking very loudly.

"UP!" The broom snapped into the boy's hand with a tremendous force that nearly knocked him over. The Slytherins clapped appreciatively and the Gryffindors joined in politely. The young boy's eyes were huge as his face split in to a wide grin.

"Well done Mr. Crane," said Harry as he unobtrusively slipped his wand back into his pocket. "Now remember that feeling. You'll need it for every stage as you learn to fly." Harry walked back down to his own broom and turned to face the chattering students. "Quiet down now so we can move on to the next step. Are there any questions about what we've done so far? Yes, Miss Simmons?"

"Professor, is it true that you caught the snitch the first time you ever flew?"

"Miss Simmons, that question is decidedly off topic." Harry looked around at the rest of the students, all of which were watching him intently, hoping for an answer. "Please restrain yourselves from asking irrelevant personal questions during lessons. If it happens again I'll start taking away points." The students looked dejected and crestfallen. A couple of students farthest from Harry began whispering conspiratorially. Harry grew concerned that their suddenly sour mood would affect their performance during the rest of the lesson. "I think, in this case, I may have to appease you, and answer the question. I don't want false rumors flying around the school," he offered as an excuse.

"I did not, in fact, catch the snitch on my first time flying. There was a bit of an accident involving… another student," Harry caught himself. He had nearly said Neville's name. "Madam Hooch was off escorting him to the hospital wing when a bully found the boy's Rememberall had fallen out of his pocket. He thought it would be funny to fly off and hide it somewhere, so I followed him. The bloody coward decided to throw it away so I had to chase after it to catch it before it hit the ground."

"Did you catch it?" said a girl standing right in front of Harry.

"Of course I caught it! What kind of story do you think this is?" They all laughed.

"Did you get in trouble?" said a boy behind him.

"No, but I should have," Harry said, turning and revealing a much more somber face. "Nobody has any business trying to fly like that on his first try. I could have seriously hurt myself." He paused to allow those words to sink in fully. "Now, that's enough about me. Let's move on. You all have your brooms ready. Hold the handle with your right hand like so. For those of you who are left handed, simply reverse the right and left for everything as I go along." Harry gripped the knobby broomstick awkwardly for a moment before finding a comfortable spot. "Now, put your left hand a few inches below your right one… That's it." Harry walked up and down the row, checking and correcting grips. Once they were all set he showed them how to properly sit so as not to slide off the end of the broom. "Remember, think of your left hand as the stabilizing hand and your right hand as your steering hand. Now, I'm going to demonstrate this first. You are to watch only, and keep your feet firmly on the ground until I tell you otherwise." Harry had now wandered down to the opposite end of the lines of students and walked quickly back to his disguised Firebolt.

"Once you're comfortably situated, you'll rest your right foot up on the broom like this, allowing the hovering force of the broom to hold your balance." Harry turned himself around with his left foot to give them each a good look. "Take your time to get used to the feeling, and when you're stable you'll kick off gently from the ground and hover for a moment. Once you've got a feel for that, you'll lean forward and touch back down. Be careful not to push down the broom with your right hand, because that will make you want to fly forward. Lean your whole body forward, and you'll sink back down to the ground." With an exaggerated thud Harry landed again.

"Alright everyone give it a try." Harry walked along the row and watched carefully as, one by one, the student's faces lit up with joy as their feet left the ground. Occasionally he would have to reach up and pull gently on someone's shoulders. "Remember to lean your whole body," said Harry over and over again. Once everyone had touched back down and began congratulating each other, Harry called for attention again. "You've done wonderfully everyone. You're really getting a feel for it. We have just a few more minutes so I want to get a start on turning before we go.

"Spread out a bit now. We're going to need some more room to move around. Try to get at least a broom's length and a half between you and your neighbor. Good. Now, we're going to start off the same way," Harry mounted his broom quickly and hovered. "When you're hovering comfortably, lean ever so slightly to one side, and pull gently with your right hand in the same direction. You should slowly start to turn to that side." Harry slowly rotated to the right. "Remember to lean just a bit so it will be more comfortable. When you're actually moving it's very awkward to try to turn without leaning, but be careful not to lean to far or you could end up like this." Harry hung upside down for a moment, trailing his black hair in the grass, eliciting giggles from all of the students. "You don't want to get stuck like this, trust me. Incidentally, ladies, I highly suggest you never try flying while wearing a dress or a skirt or you'll wind up giving the boys much more than they bargained for." There was more giggling as well as a lot of mortified blushing as they all looked self-consciously at each other. After righting himself, Harry turned a full circle to the left and then another to the right, demonstrating the proper lean and exaggerating the pulling motion of his right hand slightly so they could see it. "Now you give it a try."

Harry watched admiringly as each student confidently rose from the ground and began wobbling in one direction or another. Harry occasionally steadied them with his hand as he observed their progress. Suddenly there was a giggle from behind him and he turned to see the girl called Janet nudging her broom handle into the tail of the broom in front of her.

"Miss Ross! Keep to your own space, this is no place for foolishness," Harry admonished, striding quickly toward the colliding brooms. Suddenly the boy she had been nudging turned around, blushing profusely when he realized what Janet had been doing. With a look of horror, the boy turned too far and suddenly began leaning back in the other direction. All too quickly he found himself hanging upside down and was now near a panic. Before Harry could reach him he had pulled himself upright and looked quite delighted at having stabilized the broom. Janet squealed in delight and clapped her approval, surely convinced he had been showing off. The boy blushed again and lost his balance. In a sudden streak of color he leaned forward and shot off into the sky, screaming.

"Mr. Crane! Come back here. This is no time for games!" Harry watched as the boy shot higher into the sky, his screams pealing off of the castle walls. "Nobody move!" He waved his wand and all of the brooms fell to the ground as if pulled by a magnet. Those students who were still riding them landed with a collective thud.

Before they could register everything that was happening, Harry had grabbed his broom and shot off in a blurred streak. He turned toward the Great Forest in a sweeping arc and hugged his broom tightly as he shot toward the screaming, flailing boy. The boy's broom was nearly out of control, bucking this way and that as he overcorrected his balance. Suddenly the broom turned sideways and began spiraling down toward the ground. Harry put on a last burst of speed and snatched the boy from his broom just as it landed with a tremendous, dusty thud.

"It's alright," Harry said into the trembling boy's ear as he slowed and glided smoothly back to where the rest of the class stood, watching in horror and awe at what was happening. "You'll be okay. I've got you." Harry conjured a squashy armchair as he landed, still holding the gasping and sputtering boy. "Sit here and catch your breath. It's alright."

"But the broom—"

"Don't worry about that old broom Jonathan. I'm sure it will be replaced. At least you gave it a proper burial." The boy laughed between gasping breaths. "The rest of you, class dismissed. I'll see you next time. Miss Ross, you will wait behind." Janet nodded silently and stood several feet away, unsure of whether to look worried about what had just happened or scared of her punishment.

After a few moments the pale boy seemed to regain some of his composure. Harry held him by his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. "There you are. Welcome back. Can you walk?"

"I think so," Jonathan gasped in reply.

"Okay then. Let's go on up to the Hospital Wing. You don't seem to be injured but you look as though you've seen a Dementor. I expect Madam Pomfrey has some spare chocolate. Come along Miss Ross," Harry added sternly. The mortified girl walked silently in their wake as Harry and Jonathan strode through the grounds, into the castle and up to the hospital wing. When they arrived, Madam Pomfrey showed them to a bed near at back of the room. Several third-year Ravenclaws sat nursing various sores and boils as they walked past.

"I'll be with you in just a moment. There was a bit of an accident down in Greenhouse Three." The nurse busied herself with her other patients, administering ointments and potions, cleaning some of the larger wounds. She made her way gradually down the line and eventually arrived at the last bed. "Flying accident?" she said surveying Harry and the other two, looking for the most obvious injuries. "What's broken?"

"Nothing as far as I can tell," said Harry. "Mr. Crane here just lost his balance and ended up shooting out over the grounds. Luckily I managed to catch up with him before he hit the ground."

"I see. Is that what I saw shoot past the window earlier?" She asked rhetorically.

"He's just a bit shell shocked and I wanted to be sure nothing was wrong," said Harry. "You don't have any chocolate around do you?"

"Well, of course. That should make you feel much better," she handed Jonathan a large, fist-sized hunk of chocolate. Janet looked on greedily as Jonathan ate. "That must have been quite a ride for your first time."

"It sure was. I just wish I had more control. The feeling was amazing." Jonathan's color was returning nicely as he downed the last of his chocolate. "When can I try that again?"

"Next week, if you're up for it. You've got some natural speed you know. I haven't seen one of the school brooms go off that fast in years. You've got the potential to be good around the pitch, probably a fair chaser I'd wager. Work hard on your form and you'll be even faster. You could even make the team by next year."

"Really? Nobody in my family has ever been good at Quidditch! I can't wait to try that again."

"Well, you rest for now," Harry said fondly. "I'll leave you here with Madam Pomfrey so she can check you over."

"Thanks Professor."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad that you're all right." Harry turned and guided Janet through the door by her shoulders. Once they were in the hall he turned gravely to her. "That was a very dangerous thing to do Miss Ross. As you have seen, he was very lucky. It could have been much worse. What if he had fallen off or ran himself into the ground?"

"I'm sorry," she said simply. Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she studied a bit of dirt on the floor between Harry's shoes. "I never wanted to hurt him." She looked up at Harry with pain in her eyes. Harry's expression softened instantly.

"I know you didn't. Quite the opposite I'm sure." She looked at him quizzically for a second and blushed. "To be honest," Harry added in a whisper, "I think he likes you too, but you're going to have to be careful. Anything more like what happened today and he'll be too terrified to even talk to you. And keep your flirting out of the classroom. That will be 10 points from Slytherin and I'll send notice later for your detention. Have a good day Miss Ross."

* * *

"Harry, come up to bed. Please." Ginny, in a pale green dressing gown, rested her arm against the wall of the stone entryway to their flat, brushing her hair lightly with her free hand. Harry, who hadn't heard the hidden panel slide open, started when she spoke, ever so softly as it was. Looking up from his desk he warmed as he gazed at the simple beauty Ginny exuded.

"Wow," Harry breathed.

"What?"

"You're gorgeous."

"Harry, I was getting ready for bed. I don't even have my makeup on."

"You don't need makeup to look beautiful." Harry motioned for her to join him at his desk. "In fact, you've never looked more ravishing," he gushed as she sat in his lap. Harry took the brush from her and stroked it through her glimmering, red hair. "I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. It's been busier than I thought keeping up with all of this schoolwork. I thought I was done with homework for life."

"You never really get to see how much your teachers do when you're a student," Ginny mused.

"Yes. We evil teachers always conspire to keep secret as much information as possible. It's our plan for world domination."

"Well, as long as you have some goals." Ginny took the brush from Harry and set it on the desk as she leaned back onto his shoulder. "I'd hate to see you all wandering aimlessly toward some higher purpose."

"Teacher's can't have a higher purpose. We'd be fired on the spot for our ambition."

Ginny laughed softly. "Should I be concerned that you're this jaded after only three weeks of classes?"

"Nah, I'll be numb after another week anyway," Harry chuckled. "I probably won't even feel it anymore." There was a long pause in which they both closed their eyes and breathed deeply. Contented in each other's arms, they sat and enjoyed their warm embrace. "This sure feels good though," Harry whispered.

"Mm," Ginny agreed, rubbing her cheek against his. "Seriously Harry, you are happy, aren't you? You're not regretting taking this job? I know I pushed you pretty hard."

"No. I don't regret it one bit. These kids are fantastic. The whole school is so much more united than when we were here. The house cup competition used to be like a life or death battle. Now it's more like a friendly snowball fight." Ginny giggled at his analogy. "I just hope they still have some competitive spirit for when Quidditch starts."

"It'll be nice to see a rousing game without all of that brutality we used to deal with," Ginny said thoughtfully. "Still, I think they'll probably get into it. There are only six games per year after all. I don't know. I think the competition gets in the way of the fun a bit sometimes."

"I've been thinking about that," said Harry. "That's what I was working on actually, before I was so pleasantly interrupted." Ginny shrieked as Harry poked her playfully in the side.

"You watch your hands mister." Ginny chided, pulling his arms around her and holding his hands in hers.

"I can't see them, you're in the way," Harry teased.

"Well I guess I'll have to watch them for you," Ginny responded without missing a beat. "What were you saying?"

"I was thinking of starting up an intra-house Quidditch program for Gryffindor."

"You don't think Gryffindor gets Quidditch crazy enough?"

"Maybe, but I think this would actually calm that down a little bit," Harry went on. "The house team is very competitive. It's really hard to get on it and I'm sure there are a lot of decent players that don't make the team. If they had an opportunity to play outside of the school-wide competition, informally, more students would get a chance to play and enjoy the game. People wouldn't have to worry so much about getting to the big school-wide games to get their Quidditch fix. Remember how badly Hermione felt whenever she missed a game to do homework? This way, people could enjoy playing or watching whenever it's convenient. It could be good for the House Team as well. How about this…" Harry began sketching on a heavily used roll of parchment, filled with scribbles of half-thought ideas. "Each intra-house team would be captained by one of the players from the House Team. That would give more people leadership roles. They'd be able to try out new ideas in games that don't matter so much; really take some risks on some bold plays. That in itself could be some fine entertainment."

"If this works Gryffindor will be unstoppable this year."

"I thought of that too." Harry smiled mischievously. "But I don't think I have time to set it up in time for this year. Maybe after Christmas…"

"I think it's a wonderful idea honey," Ginny said sleepily, "but we really need to get some sleep. You've got a full day of classes tomorrow and then we have Hermione's party. You'll be dead on your feet by noon if you stay up any longer."

"You are right as usual," Harry said with defeat as he slid the parchment and quill into a desk drawer. "Come on, let's get this tired girl up to bed." Harry spun Ginny around and threw her over his shoulder as he walked toward the apartment door.

"Harry don't," Ginny squealed. "Please, I can walk myself, thank you very much."

"Oh no, you have no business walking around so droopy and drowsy. It is my responsibility to see you safely to your bed, and so help me, that's what I'm going to do."

"You have the quirkiest kind of chivalry I've ever encountered Harry Potter." Ginny finally resigned herself to riding along on Harry's broad shoulder as he marched up the stairs. "But I love you anyway."

"Oh? And why would that be?" Harry asked facetiously as he turned the corner into the bedroom.

"Because you have a very cute bum." Harry yelped and nearly lost his balance before he lightly tossed Ginny onto the bed.

"No fair peeking." Harry rubbed his backside gingerly with a feigned expression of injury as he began to change into his pajamas.

"It is so fair; Wife's Prerogative," Ginny laughed, hanging her dressing gown on a hook near the bed. "Besides, I catch you peeking all the time."

"That's only because you make it so easy," Harry said as he slid between the covers. He ducked and raised his hands defensively as a pillow assaulted his face.

"Harry James Potter, is that anything that should be said of a lady?"

"Only one as lovely… and beautiful… and ravishing… and caring… and loving… and sexy… and incorrigible as you." Harry kissed a different part of her face after each word.

"You know, I forgot there's another reason I love you so much," said Ginny as she settled into the crook of Harry's arm.

"I'm afraid to ask but… What reason would that be?"

"You're sweet too." She turned her head and kissed him gently. "And you're all mine."

"I knew it was something." Harry smiled and stroked her hair softly. "Goodnight my love." Ginny sighed her approval and was instantly asleep.

* * *

"Harry, you'd better get back down there. Class will be over in a few minutes."

"I know, I know. I just need to get this… There." Harry turned the small parcel over in his hands with satisfaction. "That should do it."

"You know Harry, magic or not, I've never seen anyone struggle so much with wrapping paper."

"You know Ginny, I think men just have some sort of anti-wrapping gene or something. Remember your last Christmas present from Ron?"

"Harry, that's not nice. Don't you remember it was 'abstract'?"

"Oh… right," Harry snorted. "I forgot."

"What's that you're giving her anyway?" Ginny asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "Okay, I'm going down. We'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry walked briskly down the corridor toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, whistling merrily to himself. With a loud grunt and a thud, he tripped over a pile of robes as he turned around a corner. "Peeves! What are you on about this time?" he bellowed. As Harry got back to his feet and dusted off his robes, he noticed that the mess of robes he had tripped over was moving. "Miss Anderson, are you alright? I hope I didn't kick you too hard. Oh and Mr. Simmons as well," Harry added sarcastically, cottoning on to what was happening. "My, that is a lovely shade of lipstick you're wearing Eric." Harry paused as the couple on the floor untangled themselves and stood, flushed and embarrassed. "I might suggest there are more appropriate places for your extra-curricular activities, not that either of you really need any more to be getting on with. I'll be writing to your parents if that Charms grade isn't improved by the end of the month, Mr. Simmons. As for you Miss Anderson, I do hope you've made some progress on that Demiguise essay. You won't be getting another extension. Run along now."

The bell rang as Harry turned the last corner just outside of the Defense classroom. Doors began opening along the hallway and voices quickly filled the cavernous corridors. Harry pulled open his classroom door and was suddenly surrounded by laughter. The students noticed his presence and tried to calm themselves as he marched to the front of the room. "Oh don't let me interrupt. It looks as though you've been having quite a lively little discussion."

"I suppose you could call it that," said a stern looking Hermione. "It seems that someone suggested to your class that we should discuss Boggarts, not that there was any apparent need to cover the subject. They are all quite thoroughly informed about them including a number of specific forms their overly thorough professor has seen them take in the past."

"Well, what did you talk about then?"

Hermione held her hands on her hips as he smirked, looking out over the class of third-years with delight.

"What?" Harry said innocently.

"You know perfectly well what?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley. I simply wanted to ensure that everyone got as much information out of this guest lecture as possible."

"It is possible to have too much of a good thing."

"Like homework?" With this the class burst out laughing again. Hermione simply shook her head.

Harry turned to speak to the students. "Thank you for being so polite to our guest…" Hermione snorted as she gathered her things from the corner of the room. "Don't forget about Quidditch team tryouts tomorrow, for those of you who would like to join the team. You've done very well this week so no extra homework. Don't forget to finish reading chapter seven before next class. Have a good weekend."

"That was downright cruel Harry, leaving me alone in here with them and loading them up with questions like that," scolded Hermione as Harry picked up her bag and threw it over his shoulder.

"Oh come on Hermione, it obviously wasn't that bad. Stop exaggerating."

"How do you know it wasn't bad? You weren't even here."

"Because they were still in their seats when I got back," Harry laughed. "That's pretty good in the _middle_ of class, let alone after the bell had already rung. You were having fun, and you know it."

"Alright, I confess. It was a lot of fun actually. I couldn't believe it when the bell rang so soon."

"You get used to that after a while. Time does go by a lot faster than when we were students. Eventually you kind of develop a little internal clock; by instinct you know how far through the period you are. Mine's pretty accurate now and that's a very good thing because you're pretty much dead meat if they keep catching you looking at your watch."

"That makes sense," Hermione mused as they walked through the corridor toward Harry's other office. "I have to hand it to you. You really had them well-prepared Harry. They already knew more or less everything I was going to talk about. At first I was afraid I'd run out of things to say because they seemed to know everything already, but it was great because they really got engaged and we got into some pretty in-depth subjects. I think you've got a couple of fine Auror candidates in that class."

"They're some of my brightest, that bunch. I'm having to revamp how I do things for them. Half of them didn't even get a chance with our Boggart last week. A couple of their charms hit it really hard and it up and exploded on us after five minutes."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I even had to have Professor McGonagall come and watch the last time I had them in class because other houses thought I was giving out too many points in that period."

"From what I saw, they deserve them."

"That's what she said too," Harry said resolutely.

"Well, whatever you're doing, it's working. I don't know if you can tell, but they really admire you, as a teacher, not as a celebrity. It's been only a few weeks and they already seem to have forgotten that you're the Harry Potter."

"I had to earn that one. They were really frustrated for the first week or so but they finally realized I wasn't going to spend the class answering personal questions. It was hard to be firm about it but it was worth it. After you," Harry said as he held open the office door. "Hermione, thank you, really, for coming to talk to them. I really appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure. It's good to get out of the usual ministry routine once in a while. Besides, we needed an excuse to be up here. It's very nice of you and Ginny to have us up."

"I'm glad we get to see you for your birthday. Unfortunately, with all of my duties here, in and out of class, it's hard to get away for very long," Harry sighed as they walked through the hidden panel and up the curving stone staircase.

"There she is!" bellowed Ron as they entered the unusually crowded flat. Hagrid himself took up half of the room. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you sweetie," said Hermione as he swept her up in to a big noisy, cheesy kiss. "Ronald, grow up would you."

"What do you mean 'grow up', you're the old fart around here." Ron flinched as she slapped him playfully. Harry and Ginny laughed appreciatively.

"Happy Birthday!" Ginny said when Hermione had managed to untangle herself from Ron.

"Thank you Ginny," Hermione said, trying to ignore her husband as she hugged her best friend. "It was really great of you and Harry to have us up here. And it's so great to see everyone. How are you Hagrid?"

"Doin' qui' well, thanks fer askin'. Happy Birthday Hermione."

"Oh, and Neville, it's wonderful to see you. How are classes going so far?"

"Oh, they're alright. It's a little harder than I thought it would be. My third-years had a bit of a problem with the bubotubers the other day. All in all though, it's a lot of fun."

"That's wonderful Neville. Harry and Ginny seem to think things are working out quite well for both of you." Hermione turned to the final guest in the room. "Professor McGonagall! I haven't seen you in ages. Thank you for coming."

"I'm glad Ginny talked me into it. Professor Potter over there had me convinced you were going to hex me the first time you laid eyes on me."

"Why would I do something like that?"

"I honestly have no idea. He mentioned something about, his former job, Hogwarts, and you being denied information." The Headmistress smiled as Hermione laughed and turned her narrowed eyes on Harry.

"You sure have a big mouth lately." Hermione punched him playfully in the arm.

"Just looking out for my fellow teachers. We have to fend for ourselves most of the time."

"I suppose I deserved that after what I said about you," Hermione admitted.

"Well, you weren't saying it about me really. At least you didn't think you were," Harry responded playfully.

The party went on for hours as friends caught up on old times. It was after 10 by the time the other professors excused themselves, leaving Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry in the sitting room. They talked lightly as they relaxed in each other's company, something they each realized they had missed dearly. Hermione sat admiring the double picture frame Ginny had just given her. On one half was a picture of Ron and Hermione sitting together on the snowy steps to the entrance hall. On the other half was a picture of the two couples together in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Where did you even get these pictures Ginny? I don't remember anyone taking them."

"Well, it turns out, Colin was already an accomplished stealth photographer back then. I ran into him over the summer and he mentioned he had been looking through some of his old albums and found those."

"I don't know if Ginny told you," Harry said sitting up. "We have a similar set in the bedroom. Here, I'll run and get it." A moment later he returned with a similar looking frame. It had the same picture of the four of them and one of Harry helping Ginny up out of the snow.

"That was really a great picture to find," said Hermione, "You two weren't even going together when this was taken."

"Not that I hadn't tried," sighed Ginny. "Still, he was worth the wait." She patted Harry's leg gently. "You should give her your present before it gets too late Harry."

"I suppose you're right." Harry reached behind him for the small parcel that was on the floor behind his chair. "Hermione, thanks again for coming up and talking to my classes. We've really missed you guys since we moved up here. Anyway… Happy Birthday."

"Wow Hermione, it looks like a book!" joked Ron. "No, wait, Harry's a clever one. That's just what he wants you to think." Ron rubbed his chin in a conspiratorial way. "You'd better watch yourself."

"Don't be so ridiculous Ronald. Harry already had his joke on me today." Hermione mocked suspicion as she peeled open the wrapping, peeking carefully inside. "Hm, looks okay to me. Well, here goes nothing." With a dramatic sweep of her arm she pulled the paper open to reveal a worn, leather-bound book with gold lettering on the cover, which read Hogwarts: A History. "Cute Harry. You probably think this is funny, but I've actually wanted a copy of this. I threw mine away years ago when I found out about the House Elves at Hogwarts."

"I know you did," Harry said, trying hard to conceal a smile.

"So what's the joke?" Hermione glared at him suspiciously.

"No joke. Open the cover." Hermione looked suspicious as she flipped the book open. Her smile flattened and tears welled up in her eyes as she read the handwritten inscription inside.

_Dear Hermione, Thank you for putting up with me on my first assignment. Good luck at Hogwarts! - Stephen Page, 17 July 1991._

Below that dedication was another.

_Dear Hermione, Thank you for putting up with me over the years. I will never forget what a wonderful friend you were as we grew up, and continue to be today. Always, Harry Potter, 19 September 2003._

Without saying a word, Hermione walked over and smothered Harry in a huge, sobbing hug. After a few moments she pulled away, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you so much, Harry. This is such a perfect gift. I can't even begin to… This was the first book I read after my first Hogwarts letter was delivered. Stephen was the one who came to talk us through everything. He was in training at the time, so he gave me this to thank us for being patient with him. I was so mad that I'd thrown it away. Wherever did you find it?"

"Flourish and Blott's was closing out all of their old copies a while ago, back when your book came out. I just looked at it on a whim because I recognized the title. I couldn't believe it when I opened the cover."

"Wow. This is such a surprise," Hermione said, beaming. "I don't know what to say…"

Harry simply smiled at her and held her hand gently. "Sometimes words aren't necessary." 


	9. Chapter 8: To Gryffindor

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 8: To Gryffindor  
Characters:  
Genres:  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: The Potters and Weasleys enjoy a free Saturday and the carefree skies over Hogwarts before observing the Gryffindor Quidditch Team tryouts.

* * *

It was just a few hours after Hermione's party had finally broken up and Harry was lying peacefully in bed, sleeping soundly. The long week had taken its toll and he had fallen asleep the second his head had hit the pillow. Ginny turned slightly next to him and Harry's eyes popped open. He sat up abruptly, snatching his wand from the bedside table and staring around the room suspiciously before he realized what had happened. Grumbling, he laid down his wand again and returned to the comfort of his pillow, whispering, "Your feet are cold." 

"Mm?" Ginny stirred slightly.

"Your feet are cold."

"Hrm… Harry, I'm tired too you know," she whined without opening her eyes. "Why'd you go and wake me up? I was asleep," she grumbled into the pillow.

"So was I."

"What woke you?" she asked as she turned her head to face the other way, clearly not intending to hear an answer.

"Your feet are cold."

"What?" Ginny said, blinking as she grudgingly turned to face Harry.

"Your – feet – are – cold," Harry said patiently.

"Oh," Ginny shifted again, blinking and rubbing her feet together as if trying to feel how cold they were. "Sorry, but yours are warm."

"Yes, I know, but they won't be for long if… Here, just let me do a warming charm."

"No Harry," Ginny sat up as he reached for his wand. "Please, warming charms dry out my skin."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, earning him a glare from Ginny. "Alright, give them here then. Maybe if we get the circulation going…"

"Ooh, thank you sweetie," Ginny said, pulling her pillow down along the side of the bed and propping her legs up on Harry's lap as he sat up against the headboard. "Mm, that feels nice." She fell back heavily into the pillow, fully relaxed as Harry massaged her chilly feet, occasionally rubbing his hands together to warm them.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry shouted as a wailing klaxon blared from his office downstairs. Ginny had instinctually retracted her legs at the sudden noise.

"What is that?"

"Oy," Harry groaned, pulling on his dressing gown and a pair of slippers. "Someone's really going to get it. That's the alarm for the girl's dormitory, remember?" The alarm silenced as Harry flicked his wand in the general direction of Gryffindor tower and muttered, "Silencio."

"Oh. They told us about that, but I've never actually heard it. I was already down at breakfast that time Ron set it off."

"It's three-thirty in the bloody morning. All of Gryffindor is probably awake." Harry spat as he stuffed his wand into a pocket of his dressing gown and shoved on his glasses. "I'm sorry Ginny," Harry apologized as he reached for the bedroom door.

"Don't be, it's your job. I'll just go and make sure Ron and Hermione are okay."

"No, I'll take care of it. You get some sleep. Here," he pulled a pair of thick woolen socks from a drawer and tossed them to Ginny. "I guess this is the best I can do for now."

"Thank you sweet heart. Are you sure you don't need anything? I could make some coffee or something."

"No, I'm hoping this won't take long enough for that. Don't wait up for me." Harry hurried over to a bedroom on the opposite side of the flat in time to see a sleepy-eyed Ron peering through the open door. "You two alright there?"

"Yeah. Was that what I think it was?" Ron grinned at the memory of the time, years ago, when he had raced unsuccessfully up the stairway to the girls' dormitory, looking for Hermione.

"'Fraid so. Go back to sleep if you can. I've just got to run and take care of this."

With that Harry stomped quickly down the stairs and into his office. Cursing under his breath, he marched quickly through the office door and down the hallway, turning up the staircase, tearing his way through one hidden door and throwing aside a tapestry hiding another. Seconds later he stood in front of the fat lady.

"Did anyone come through here recently?" Harry questioned the portrait impatiently. He suspected he knew the answer, seeing she was as fully awake as he was.

"Yes, just a few minutes ago. I'm afraid I didn't see who it was. I had been asleep at the time and I didn't get a good look before they were behind me. Password?"

"Quaffle."

Harry settled his face into a firm and stony expression as the portrait swung open. Emerging into the Gryffindor common room, he approached a small crowd of students near the stairway to the girls' dormitories.

"All of you back up and stand along that wall."

"Professor—"

"No talking!" Harry spat. Looking over the line of students, (some giggling, some confused, others mortified) Harry observed that most were wearing dressing gowns or pajamas. One pair, a fifth-year boy and a sixth-year girl near the center of the group, stood out quite readily, fully dressed in their school robes and trying desperately not to look at each other as they stared at the floor, rubbing sore spots on their knees and shins. "You boys go on upstairs. And straight to bed!" Three other fifth-year boys, a fourth-year, and a third-year walked quickly over to the opposite staircase. "No talking either," Harry added. "You can gab all you want about it in the morning. I don't want to have to come up there, but I will, and you'll find it decidedly unpleasant. The same goes for you girls." Harry flicked his wand and the stairs reemerged from the smooth surface of the spiraling slide, leading up to the girls' dorms. Two sixth-year girls stepped lightly up the restored staircase and out of sight.

Without speaking, Harry gestured to two nearby chairs. Cowering slightly under his livid gaze, the two blushing students took their seats quickly. Harry sat down slowly on the large hearth of the fireplace and looked from one guilty face to another for a few moments, allowing the weight of silence to settle into their guts like a great, heavy stone. When his subjects each appeared sufficiently terrified, Harry turned and relit the fire. The room warmed slightly, and the mood lightened to match it as the flames crackled away.

"It appears that, while you are certainly guilty of something, you were not doing what your fellow students seem to think you were doing. I expect you will both suffer a certain amount from the gossip that will surely ensue in the coming days. For that, I offer my sympathy. I know what it is like to have people talking behind your back about subjects they couldn't possibly understand."

The two students in front of Harry looked at each other with puzzled, but knowing, expressions. Harry sat patiently as they pondered what he had just told them. After a moment their eyes softened slightly and they finally looked Harry in the eye, searching for some clue that would explain the strange calmness with which Harry was addressing them.

"Now, I hope you will be able to see that I am not an unreasonable person. I assure you it is best to be honest with me right up front. Would you like to tell me what happened?"

The girl spoke first, with surprising confidence considering the punishment she might be facing. "It was my fault. I was the one who suggested—"

"No," the boy said firmly. "It's mine. I was having trouble with my Potions homework and Lauren offered to help me study." Harry noticed a familiar look of fear on his face. It was one he had seen on the faces of a number of Professor Snape's least favorite students. Harry's expression softened slightly.

"You were studying on a Friday night in the middle of September?" Harry asked. His tone was deliberately skeptical but he was actually quite sure of himself that the boy was being truthful.

"I got worried. I fell behind a bit this week and I really need to get a good O.W.L. grade on my potions, so I didn't want to wait until it was too late."

"That is quite admirable Mr. Meeks. My concern is why this caused you to be out in the castle so late and, more importantly, what possessed you to enter the girls' dormitories."

"We went to the library," Lauren chimed in helpfully. "We were doing pretty well for a while until…" She paused, looking at the boy as if for approval.

"We had to leave," the boy said evasively.

"The library was getting too, uh… distracting," Lauren continued vaguely.

"Someone was teasing you for studying alone together in the Potions section," Harry speculated, "which I believe is rather conveniently, or in this case perhaps inconveniently, tucked away in a secluded corner of the library." Harry paused and saw looks of assent on their faces. "Very well, what did you do?"

"Well, we decided to take a few books and find some place else to study," Lauren continued, looking warily between Harry and the pale looking boy next to her.

"I expect that prompted some further heckling from your fellow students."

"Yes. They followed us out and we had to run to get away from them. Thankfully we found an empty room that was just the perfect place to hide and turned out to be a good place to study as well. It even had potion ingredients and cauldrons and things so we could practice. I wish I had known that room was there last year."

"Indeed," said Harry with a knowing smile on his face. He suspected quite strongly that they had run across the Room of Requirement, which he and his fellow students had utilized years ago. Without warning, Harry swept his wand out and a jet of light shot off over the heads of the two students sitting in front of him. Looking past their suddenly ashen faces, he said, "Ah, Mr. Simmons. Lurking in the stairwell are we? Sleep walking perhaps?" Harry addressed the shocked looking third-year boy that he had sent away a few minutes before, who was now standing stock-still with his face pressed up against the door-jam. The door was no longer present as Harry had just vanished it. "I think not. That will be a detention for disobeying me, Ivan, and twenty points from Gryffindor for disrespecting the privacy of your fellow students." Looking scandalized, but unable to speak, Ivan turned back up the stairs in a huff. "So sorry about that, what were you saying Miss Walker?" Harry turned again to the students in front of him as he waved his wand, rematerializing the door. The two students didn't speak for a moment and both eyed the door warily. "Don't worry, I've sealed the doors. They won't unseal themselves until someone opens them from this side, which you two will be doing soon enough."

"Well, we got a lot of studying done," Lauren continued confidently. "I really think you've got the hang of that Draught of Peace Edward." Lauren looked fondly over at the boy.

"I dunno," Edward said dejectedly.

"You did really well. It was quite peaceful in there after we tried it out. Maybe a little too peaceful actually," she said, turning back to Harry. "You see, the reason we were out so late is… well… we fell asleep. It's been a long week and, after we tried the potion and realized it worked so well, we sat down to have a rest. The next thing I knew it was after three and Edward was waking me up. We didn't want to get caught," she smiled meekly at Harry, "so we snuck back here as carefully as we could."

"Well, that sounds like an honest mistake to me. You should work a little more on that potion. I think it's still a bit strong, but it must have been almost right or you'd both still be sleeping up there. In the future, always have someone around who isn't trying the potion, in case something does go wrong. I'd also advise you to be more careful when you're out so late, to be sure that you get back at a reasonable hour. Nevertheless, that still doesn't explain the alarm."

Edward squirmed a bit in his seat and blushed. Lauren looked over at him with a mixture of fondness and empathy at his shyness. Gazing at Harry, her eyes pleaded with him as she spoke. "He just wanted to thank me. I told him it was no trouble but he seemed a bit… I dunno… He's really sweet you know." Harry smiled at her candor and openness. Edward tried to sink deeper into his chair. "I don't really know what came over me, but I just had to give him a hug and then… well…you know…"

Harry nodded and held up his hand before she had to finish. "I think I understand that much. But, why did you try to go up the stairs Edward?"

"I felt bad…"

"About what?" Harry asked gently.

"Well, I uh…" Edward studied the floor as he stalled for an answer that wouldn't be embarrassing.

"I guess I caught him by surprise. My friends always say I'm a bit forward at times," Lauren came to his defense. "I realized that I might have scared him so I decided it would be best just to say goodnight, and I left. I was almost to the first landing when the alarm went off and I went sliding back down and collided with Edward at the bottom." She paused and turned to Edward who was now blushing deep crimson. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have… Was it too fast? You know if you don't like me that way I'll understand. We can still be friends."

Edward looked up suddenly, his mouth hanging open as he shook his head slightly. "No, I uh…I mean…well, actually that's why I was trying to get up the stairs to catch you so I could say I was sorry. I didn't realize what had just happened," he blushed again, "until you were already going upstairs. I never knew anything about that alarm. I'm sorry I woke everybody up, especially you Professor."

Harry seemed satisfied and got to his feet, hoping to give the poor boy a bit of a reprieve from his embarrassment. "Well, as I had suspected, this wasn't quite as bad as it appeared to be. As for how to handle your housemates, I'll leave that up to the two of you. From my standpoint, I can't simply let this slide, so to speak," Harry chuckled, "but your honesty has, I think, earned you a bit of leniency. I think twenty points each from Gryffindor and a detention should do. I'm afraid I can't be any fairer than that, but I expect you'd only suffer more from the gossip if it seemed you weren't being disciplined. I think I may be correct in guessing that your fellow students will punish you far more effectively than detentions will." Harry smiled and looked down at both of them. " Now, I expect you two have some things to talk about, but I must insist that you sleep on them for now. You'll see each other again soon enough. Off to bed with you."

The two students blushed as they rose and looked at each other briefly before turning to their respective doors. Lauren smiled broadly at Edward as she mounted the girls' staircase. Edward waved awkwardly back and walked quickly up to the boys' dorms. Harry gazed around the common room. Mysterious shadows danced on the walls, illuminated only by the dim light from the fireplace. Yawning, Harry strode through the portrait hole and down through the darkened castle, eager to return to the warmth of his bed and the comfort of Ginny's arms.

* * *

The following afternoon found Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron walking leisurely across the grounds. The autumn air was pungent with intoxicating smells and they each inhaled the strong scents deeply as they strolled through the slightly dampened grass. Over Harry's left shoulder was his freshly trimmed and polished broomstick, his other arm rested gently around Ginny's waist as he leaned affectionately into her shoulder. 

Hermione looked up from a spare bit of parchment she had found in her pocket and was examining curiously. "You okay Harry?" she asked, mistaking Harry's droopy eyes as evidence of his lack of sleep the previous night.

"Never been better. I was just having the strongest memory." He sighed in contentment. "Remember that first time in class with Slughorn in our sixth year?"

"When you won the Felix Felicis?" Hermione asked, pocketing the parchment. "I was just remembering the same class. Isn't that funny?"

"Well, I wasn't thinking of the Felix, but yeah, I guess that happened then too."

Ron suddenly looked curiously over at Hermione, who quickly glared at him as if to say "Don't you dare say a word." Ron shrugged.

"So Ron, did Harry tell you about his idea for a Quidditch intra-house league?" Ginny asked brightly.

"Yeah, he did. It sounds like a really great idea Harry. I bet the other houses will do the same if it works out." Ron looked around nostalgically as they entered the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch. "I wonder, though, if you'll have trouble finding enough time on the pitch for all of those extra sessions and games."

"I thought of that. I suppose Hogwarts could use a new Quidditch stadium. There are a lot of parents who come to games now." Harry looked up at the ancient timbers of the Quidditch pitch as they strode across the well-kept grass. "Minerva told me they were packed to the brim for every game last year."

"Cool," said Ron as he reminisced.

"Want a ride Gin'?"

"That would be fun. We haven't done that in a while," Ginny said excitedly. "Are you two going to be alright?" She looked over at Ron and Hermione.

"We'll be fine. It's always fun to watch Harry fly. We'll just be up here in the stands."

With that Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's middle and they zoomed off into the sky. Harry flew gently at first, weaving in and out of the various parapets and outcroppings of the quidditch pitch and then over to do more of them same around the castle, with its slightly more random architecture. Ginny squeezed Harry tightly as he maneuvered deftly around the obstacles of the castle. When Harry felt Ginny begin to tire of his weaving, he straightened out, soaring high over the lake to cruise leisurely around its perimeter. Ginny pointed over at the tiny outline of the train platform and the winding line of the tracks disappearing into the hills. They waved to the tiny specks that were Hermione and Ron, sitting in the Quidditch stands. As they gazed out at the varied rooftops within the village of Hogsmeade, Harry turned back toward the Quidditch Pitch. Harry pushed the Firebolt as fast as he dared and pelted towards the stands, earning one final scream from Ginny. Harry smiled as he saw that Hermione and Ron were facing the other way as they sat. Ginny's scream had dissolved into a holler of delight just as Harry blew past them mere feet away from their heads before landing lightly on the grass.

"Bloody hell Harry!" Ron bellowed as he and Hermione made their way down to where Harry and Ginny stood, panting happily. "That wasn't even close to funny. You gave me a right scare and I think you've given Hermione a heart attack." Ron looked mortified as he patted a heaving Hermione on her back. She was doubled over and wheezing, clutching at her chest. Harry and Ginny's grins quickly melted into terrified concern for their friend.

"Oh no, what have I done?" said Harry as he knelt down quickly beside Ron who was now trying desperately to get Hermione to look at him.

"Come on baby, breathe!" Ron cried in panic, rubbing her back vigorously. Without warning, Hermione toppled over and collapsed backwards onto the grass, her hair obscuring her face. "Hermione!" Ron screamed as he bent over her. Harry was still kneeling, frozen in horror. "What the…" Ron said as he pulled Hermione's hair away. She was beet red and her eyes tightly closed as she convulsed rapidly. With a great gasping breath she pointed up at Ron and howled out so loudly that the sound echoed throughout the stands and Ron jumped away in reflex.

"You should have seen the look on your face," Hermione gasped between fits of laughter. Ron's look of dismay slowly melted into one of profound confusion as he looked from Hermione over to Harry and Ginny, who turned away and hid behind their hands as they started laughing as well. The three of them rolled there on the ground, chortling as Ron stared at them in disgust.

"It's not funny," Ron said over and over, which only made them laugh harder. After a few minutes of blissful giggling, Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat there, holding their sides in hiccoughing moans, refusing to look at each other in order to avoid any further fits. "Are you three about done?"

"Oh come on Ronald," Hermione chided, "loosen up. A good laugh is just what you need. Just think about things from our perspective for a second. Your face was simply priceless." And Hermione descended into another painful fit of laughter. This time Ron chuckled lightly as he shook his head at all of them.

"I guess I must have looked quite a sight. But really, how can you blame me. I thought Hermione was about to choke to death," he reasoned as he sprawled out on the grass with the rest of them.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," Hermione let out a long sigh. "I haven't had a good belly laugh like that in ages. That must have been a fun ride."

"It was," Ginny responded happily.

"Do you want a go?" Harry asked.

"Me?" Hermione sat up abruptly.

"Nah, Hermione hates flying," Ron answered for her.

"Actually… It's been a long time since I've tried. Maybe it's time I develop a taste for it."

"You're joking." Ron looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Really Ronald, I think I've had about as much joking as I need for today, don't you?" She nudged him playfully as she stood up.

"Okay with you mate?" Harry asked Ron as he picked up his broom.

"Do what you like. I haven't had a good chat with my sister in a while."

Harry waited patiently as Hermione situated herself behind him. After a number of false starts, with Hermione saying "Oh wait, wait, hang on… okay now," they left the ground gently and skimmed the grass for a moment before Harry began to climb gradually. He took Hermione on a much more subdued ride but covered more or less the same territory. After a few minutes Hermione spoke tentatively into Harry's ear "Let's go faster." Before long Harry was rocketing around the pitch and Ron and Ginny looked up every few seconds as Hermione's voice zoomed around them.

"Why'd you stop?" Hermione asked as Harry landed. Her face was glowing and she grinned from ear to ear.

"They're here." Harry pointed over to the tunnel to the locker rooms as a few red-clad students and a number of others gathered near the end of the pitch.

Ginny and Hermione retreated to the stands again as Ron and Harry marched over to the students.

"Remember, they'll probably recognize you so don't tell them you're here scouting. You're just a friend of mine and you used to play for Gryffindor too and wanted to meet the team. We don't want to make them any more nervous than they already are."

"Right," Ron replied as they approached a strapping, burly seventh-year.

"Mr. Crawford, I'd like you to make the acquaintance of a friend of mine," said Harry. "Otis Crawford, this is Ron Weasley." They shook hands firmly.

"Call me Oatey."

"Good to meet you. I heard great things about last year's team. Good luck with the tryouts. We'll just be over here observing, you know, for old time's sake."

"Actually, Mr. Weasley, I'm a big fan of the Cannons," Otis said confidently. "I wonder if you'd like to weigh in. I'd appreciate any advice you can give me." Ron looked quizzically at Harry.

"That sounds alright to me," said Harry.

"Alright. Sounds great," said Ron.

Most of the students present were trying out for chaser, as there were two open positions. They still had the previous year's seeker, one chaser, and Otis as beater, so there were a few trying for keeper and the other beater position as well. Otis decided to have the prospective chasers wait and go last so they could do the other positions quickly and allow them to leave.

They were all pleasantly surprised when the third and final beater flew through the air with Otis, hitting the bludgers around with great precision. Between the two boys, the bludgers were like two ping-pong balls bouncing back and forth from bat to bat, without any time to take their own direction before being hit again. "Fred and George should see these guys," Ron said out of the side of his mouth to Harry. Harry nodded excitedly as he contemplated the number of plays this sort of bludger work could contribute to. The other two students who had tried out for the position didn't really need to hear Otis's announcement of who got the job.

The choice for keeper was nearly as easy. The girl who saved the most goals wasn't astounding, but she was only a second-year and they were banking on her learning quickly throughout the season.

Otis put the chasers through a number of trials. Some involved passing in various patterns while flying the length of the pitch, some had them shooting penalties, others had full on three-on-three mini games going while the two beaters challenged their maneuverability. Ron and Harry had been able to sit back for the most part and allow Otis to make his own judgments. Soon he had the field of chasers narrowed down to three final candidates.

"That Lauren Walker is definitely one of them," said Otis as he conferred with Harry and Ron between drills. "I just can't really decide between the other two. Any ideas?"

"First of all, it's best if the other two don't know it's down to one of them to get cut," said Ron, "Make them all sweat a little and they'll be more likely to show you their true stuff. I agree it's a tough decision. I haven't really seen any mitigating differences between them. The short one there is really good with his broom, but the other one is a little more comfortable handling the quaffle. Try taking the game factor out of it. Just test their speed. Have them do a few laps around the pitch. That might show us something we can use to make a decision."

The three students raced neck and neck for the first few laps. As they started the final turn, Lauren pulled away and won quite clearly. Her friends cheered from the stands and she waved. Harry noticed an excited Edward waving back, and smiled. The other two crossed the finish line at virtually the same time. Otis was visibly frustrated as he turned back to Harry and Ron. "Doesn't seem to have helped. Any other ideas."

"It absolutely helped," Ron said brightly. "Weren't you watching them?"

"Of course I was," Otis grumbled, slightly perturbed.

"Who's the short one?"

"That's Scott Jackson."

"And the other one?"

"Frank Ellington"

"What differences did you notice in their flying?"

"Um…" Otis paused, unsure of exactly what Ron was getting at.

"Get back to basics. Think details: hand position, posture…"

Otis thought for a moment. "Okay, I see. Scott's technique is much stronger, and his whole stance on the broom was better. Thanks Mr. Weasley," Otis called happily as he turned back to announce his decision.

"Hold it!" Ron yelled, waving Otis back.

"What?" the boy replied impatiently.

"So which one are you going to pick?"

Otis looked thunderstruck. "Who do you think I'm going to pick? Scott of course!"

"That would be unwise."

"And why the bloody hell is that?"

"Because his form is already near perfect," Ron said matter-of-factly.

Otis stood, opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish, absolutely flabbergasted at what Ron was saying.

"Think about it!" Ron continued. "They both finished the race at about the same time right?"

"Yeah."

"And Frank's form leaves a bit to be desired."

"Yeah."

"So there's your answer!" Ron waved his hands wildly. "You're not auditioning who the player is right now. You're auditioning who the player is going to be four, five, six months from now. If you can get Frank's technique improved, he'd beat Scott every bloody time." Ron emphasized these last three words with strong pointing gestures.

Otis closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, staring off into space for a few seconds. "Wow," he said softly. "You're right."

"I know I am," Ron said confidently. "Now aren't you glad I stopped you."

"Yeah. Wow. Thanks a bunch Mr. Weasley. You know, I just knew somehow, you'd be in professional Quidditch from the moment I first saw you play six years ago. Now I can see why. I thought you'd be too Professor, but I'm awfully glad you're here instead."

"Thank you Mr. Crawford," said Harry. "Now go on and set your team before they start biting their fingernails clean off."

Harry later decided that diplomacy must be one of Otis's strong points, as he observed all of the students in rather bright spirits, trudging up to the castle for dinner. Even the ones who didn't make the team seemed quite certain that, this year, Gryffindor would win the Quidditch cup undefeated, and gave accolades of their future victory to every person who would listen as they and their seven team members walked confidently through the great castle doors.

Harry and Ron joined Hermione and Ginny and followed closely behind the ecstatic group of Gryffindors, smiling at their youth and their innocence, silently glad that the biggest challenges these students would be facing this year, would come in the forms of Quidditch balls and exam papers. They laughed and joked about the events of the day as they ate in Harry and Ginny's flat. And with a satisfying chink, they toasted, and raised their glasses saying, "To Gryffindor."


	10. Chapter 9: Top Secret

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 9: Top Secret  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Emily continues to remind Harry of Hermione both with her tenacity and studiousness. Professor McGonagall calls Harry into her office for a very tense meeting, one that leaves Harry both shocked and angered, and afraid to talk to his wife.

* * *

"What did you say?" Harry blinked several times, his mind racing. As quickly as he could come to his senses, he modified his expression from one of suspicion – the ever-present habit of any good Auror, former or otherwise – to one of feigned confusion. 

"I said, I was just wondering what you know about Time-Turners."

Harry paused, still restraining his suspicion and surveyed those intense, sapphire eyes, which gazed, curiously, back at him. He had to resist the temptation to look beneath the surface of those blue spheres and probe the mind within. Harry had always despised himself for using Legilimency, even against the vilest of death-eaters. To employ it so blatantly on an unsuspecting student would be unthinkable to him; yet here he was considering it. He wrote it off as an old habit. "Far more than I can tell you, I'm afraid, Miss Vance," he said grimly. She looked suddenly suspicious. "There are things I learned as an Auror that I cannot reveal," he lied.

He justified this misdirection because, for most Aurors, that statement really would have been true. In Harry's case, he had known about Time-Turners for much longer, and had rare, first-hand knowledge of their use.

"Oh, I see," Emily said dejectedly.

"If I may, why do you ask?" Harry said with trepidation.

"Well, I think it's fascinating," she said with slightly repressed enthusiasm. "Don't you?"

"To an extent." Harry dropped his quill and rose, strolling out from behind his desk with his hands in his pockets. Resting against the front edge of his desk, he leaned forward until he was only a foot from Emily's face. She was not at all disturbed by his proximity and gazed patiently at him, guessing correctly that he was stalling for time. "Are you familiar with the phrase 'If it seems too good to be true—'"

"'It probably is,'" she finished the sentence for him.

"Your parents taught you well."

"Thank you professor," she said nobly, looking down for a moment.

"That isn't a concept witches and wizards your age frequently deal with. Up to this point, the magic you've encountered tends to be fairly straightforward, with no severe trade-offs."

"Yes sir."

"Time-turners are rife with complications. They are one of the most closely guarded magical items the ministry regulates." He paused for effect. "The use of a Time-Turner is never taken lightly. I have seen them in action and even the most careful application can have disastrous complications that are simply too numerous and complex to predict. Using a Time-Turner for seemingly good intentions can still cause great and lasting harm. Even wizards who strive to avoid meddling will frequently cave-in to temptation and bend the rules to prevent something happening. Some get lucky," he paused and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, "but I fear to think of what would happen when things go otherwise."

They both sat and thought for a few, silent minutes. Harry stood again and wandered over to a book-covered wall, gazing from volume to volume, not really reading the titles.

"Time-Turners are a complicated and relatively unknown subject. If you were any other student I might consider ordering you to choose another topic for your essay. In your case, however, I don't expect I'd get you off the subject even if I did make such an order." She nodded with a wry smile. Harry grinned back as he continued. "Miss Vance, please promise me you won't get in over your head. I'll write a note to Madam Pince to help you with any sources in the restricted section. I don't know what, if any, books might discuss Time-Turners. Unfortunately, I cannot share my own sources with you. I appreciate your drive, but if you can't get enough information by the weekend, please choose another subject." Emily smiled enthusiastically and slipped her book back into her bag. "Now, what about this writer's-block you've got?"

"Actually, I think I'm over it, and I think you're right about a subject change."

"You're not even going to try it?" Harry said incredulously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you about it. I simply wanted you to understand the seriousness of this subject. I have every confidence you can do this well."

"Well, Professor, I didn't mean a complete subject change, just a different angle. If it's all right, I'd like to write about the more abstract, paradoxical nature of Time-Turners, rather than about how they work. I know the assignment was to study the actual use of an item but…"

"Say no more." Harry waved his hands in the air. "For this subject, I think we can bend the rules a bit. After all, it's only fair, since you can't as easily study this item, as your peers will with theirs. I think it will be a fascinating exploration. I look forward to finding out what you think on this one."

* * *

Harry continued to grow more and more comfortable with his job as the fall progressed. Before he knew it, he found himself standing in the Entrance Hall one Saturday with a sheaf of parchment, checking off names as students made their way down for their first Hogsmeade visit. 

"Having a good day Professor?" Otis said genially as Harry checked off his name.

"Never better, thank you Mr. Crawford. You and Mr. Ellington are off to the Quidditch supply store I expect."

"Yeah, Frank wants to look into getting a better broom. I told him his Cleansweep would be fine but he won't listen to me."

"I got some extra money for my birthday and I want to have every advantage I can get," Frank said nervously. "Surely you can appreciate that Professor."

"I can, but it's not just a good broom that wins games Mr. Ellington. I've had to play against superior brooms before. If you train hard and play smart, you can out-fly them every time. Why don't you see how things go in the first game? If you're still convinced you need a new broom after that, then by all means… but you should save your spending money for other things if you've already got a decent broom."

"See," said Otis, "even Harry Potter thinks you've got a good enough broom. Excuse me Professor, I'm simply trying to prove a point." Otis looked confidently into Harry's eyes and Harry nodded quickly to indicate that he should feel free to forego the formalities for a moment. "Save your money for something more important. Know what I mean?" Otis winked and nodded in the direction of a very pretty third-year Ravenclaw girl that had just passed by. Frank blushed crimson and looked mortified as Otis raised a knowing eyebrow toward Harry.

"Miss Vance, how are you doing today?" Harry moved away quickly to spare Frank any further embarrassment on his, Harry's, account.

"Alright," Emily responded breathlessly, stuffing an old book quickly into her bag. She looked slightly apprehensive.

"Don't worry dear, your Grandmother sent in your permission form earlier this week, I made sure she knew. Missing out on Hogsmeade visits for one year is tragic enough. I didn't want that happening again this year."

"Thanks Professor. I really appreciate it. I love her very much, but she really can be forgetful sometimes."

"Enjoy the village."

* * *

Several days later, Harry's mood was sky high as he, and the rest of the school, looked forward eagerly to the weekend, and the first Quidditch match of the year. Things were slightly tense between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but the snide comments and even a few practical jokes in the Great Hall merely made Harry and the other teachers laugh. These incidents paled in comparison to the ones they each remembered from just a few years ago. 

"Just ignore them Mr. Meeks." Harry had said on Wednesday morning as he made his way up to the staff table. "What are you so nervous about anyway? You're not even playing."

"He always gets wound up the week of a game," Lauren Walker patted him admiringly on the back. "Don't you Eddie." Edward turned quickly away from Harry and busied himself with his porridge.

That afternoon, Harry was whistling happily to himself as he walked down the hall toward his office after his final class of the day. He had caught up on grading all of his papers and his next assignments wouldn't be due until the following week. Harry was very much looking forward to finally having a quiet evening at home with Ginny. He almost didn't notice the note stuck into his doorjamb.

_I need to see you in my office. –M.M._

Confused, but undaunted by the note, Harry turned on his heel and whistled his way up the stairs. The flames of the torches lining the hall seemed to dance joyfully alongside him as he approached the stone gargoyle. Without missing a beat, Harry sang the password and rode the stairs up to the Headmistress's office.

"Professor, please come in," said Professor McGonagall without expression as she opened the large wooden doors. Harry stopped whistling, mouthing the word "professor" silently as his gaze followed her feet around the desk and finally lighted upon her face, which was more stern than usual. All in all, Harry knew something was wrong and he was at a complete loss as to what it might be.

"Good afternoon… Headmistress," Harry said tentatively. She smiled darkly at him, correctly reading his worried expression but maintaining her stony appearance. Harry gulped silently and settled into a rigid, wooden chair. She had not bothered to produce the more comfortable ones he had seen in the past.

"I want to preface this conversation by saying that I think you have done a fine job these first two months. You've adjusted admirably and you seem to be winning over the students' respect quite well."

"Thank you." Harry tried hard to relax in the stiffness of his chair.

"The school governors and the Ministry of Magic, have expressed a concern with me that is somewhat troubling. There is suspicion regarding your relationship with Miss Emily Vance." Harry looked shocked and nearly leapt from his chair, but something deep inside McGonagall's stare suggested that she greatly disliked what she was doing right now. He swallowed his anger at the accusation and decided to hear her out. "Some of the school governors are more than a little bit paranoid. I've tried to keep them calm on this, but I have to take their concerns seriously, especially with such a new teacher."

"I'm sorry…" Harry broke his silence, "but what exactly are these concerns?"

"Well, there's no doubt that the two of you have hit it off rather well on the teacher/student level. I, personally, have no problem at all with that. Certain students need that sort of interaction. Emily more than qualifies."

"Professor, if you're saying what I think you're saying, it's simply preposterous. Granted, I do very much enjoy Miss Vance's company…" Harry noticed that McGonagall's eyes darted up when he had said "Miss Vance." He was reassured when he realized that he had maintained that sense of professionalism without thinking about it. He silently hoped that Professor McGonagall had noticed the same thing and not thought of it as a shallow cover of a man who was now completely on the defensive.

"I understand, Harry," she was quite deliberate when she used his first name, hoping again to reassure him. "The two of you have a fair few things in common, and I daresay she reminds you of Hermione at that age," she paused momentarily and adjusted her robes. "Please know, I have every intention of supporting you on this, but summarily dismissing the governors' concern will only make them more suspicious. I'm sure there is nothing to hide."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, "I just don't understand what could make them think…"

"There is a part of the story you haven't heard yet. The ministry hasn't done anything because, as of yet, they have only suspicion and theory and no proof to support their claims. They did, however, find it important that they notify me, as well as the governors, of the problem." Harry, who was now completely and utterly baffled, simply shook his head, unwilling to believe what he was hearing. When Harry said nothing, McGonagall continued, "It seems that a top secret volume from the Ministry of Magic, which went missing a number of years ago, has recently turned up."

"Which one is it?"

"It has no title, which, of course, has made it difficult to search for secretly," McGonagall said smoothly.

"Oh, that one," Harry said with astonishment. "That was a huge nightmare when we found out. I remember it like it were yesterday; it was my first month at the Ministry."

"This is where we come to the problem. You see, the book was found with Emily."

"You're kidding." Harry had temporarily forgotten the accusatory nature of this meeting and was now in full Auror mode, trying to work out the mystery.

"I am not. A ministry official was walking through The Three Broomsticks on Saturday when he spotted it at her table. Apparently she was working on an essay of some sort on Time-Turners."

"Yes, that's for me."

"Time-Turners?" McGonagall said with a curious and knowing glare.

"She wanted to do it. I assure you, I warned her of the problems involved," Harry said defensively.

"I admit, she does remind me a lot of Hermione as well," Minerva sighed, "but there is some concern about her getting so deep into such a secretive subject. Normally, they wouldn't have made a big deal out of it, but that book includes, among other top-secret information, some of the original source material on Time-Turners. Some within the ministry, and a few of the governors find the circumstances a bit… suspicious."

"Suspicious how?" Harry said hotly.

"They think it's interesting that the book went missing right when you joined the ministry, and it finally shows up when your prize student needs to do some research on a less than standard topic that just happens to be included in that book. All of that may simply be coincidental," McGonagall paused, "but some aren't inclined to think so. I'll come right out and say it. They think, for whatever reason, that you stole that book and now you've given it to Miss Vance. Some have even gone so far as to suggest that it might have been a personal favor."

"This is absurd, and that accusation is disgusting and completely baseless. I assure you I did not give her that book," Harry spat. "I've never even seen it. They questioned me about it back when all of this started and it never came to anything. Haven't these people heard of double jeopardy? And where do they get off… I mean… they don't know the first thing about…" Harry growled at no one in particular. "Some one actually said that?" His shock and rage was now making his breathing quite ragged.

"Please Harry, try to be calm," Minerva said comfortingly. "I have argued each of these points with the ministry and with the Board of Governors. They have each agreed to withhold any action until conclusive evidence can be found. I brought you here because I thought you had the right to know, but there's nothing we can do at the moment except wait."

Harry paused for a moment to catch his breath. He suddenly felt as though he had just run up to the office from Hagrid's cabin. "Thanks Professor, for your confidence, but with all due respect, it's not particularly comforting right now." Harry leaned forward and buried his ashen face in his trembling hands, running his fingers through his untidy hair. "I feel like I need to do something," he stammered.

"What did you have in mind?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

"I don't know, but I feel like I should get out in front of this, not look like I'm hiding from it."

"Please Harry, I don't think it would be wise to speak publicly on this. I'm sure it will all be cleared up and most people won't even hear the first thing about it. Believe me, it wouldn't be good for anyone; you, Ginny, Miss Vance, Hogwarts, the Ministry…"

"I couldn't give a damn about the ministry!" Harry spat. The words echoed for a moment in the cavernous room. Harry though he heard a couple of light gasps from the portraits around him. He paid no attention to any of them, save one. At just that moment, without thinking about it, Harry looked up at the solemn face of Dumbledore, which was neither smiling nor frowning. Dumbledore gazed back at Harry for a moment with an expression of intense calm, and closed his eyes again. "Maybe you're right," Harry said after a moment. "but I can't simply stand by while this… this… investigation, or whatever it is, is going on. I'll get to the bottom of this." Harry rose from his chair, a determined look on his face, speaking very quickly. "If I have to question half the ministry I'll figure out how she got that book and prove that it wasn't…" Harry froze in thought and stared off into space.

"Wasn't what?"

"Surely she didn't say…"

"Didn't say what? Who? Harry, are you alright?"

"She wouldn't… There'd be no reason… Would there?"

"Harry?"

"Professor, you haven't told me what Miss Vance has to say about this? She couldn't possibly have told them that I gave her that book." Harry looked at her with fire in his eyes.

"I am not privy to the details of the Ministry's interview with her, but as she is my student, I insisted on being aware of what was going on at all times." She walked around her desk and stood beside Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "I can't believe they'd still be this unsure of what to do if she had implicated you in any way. That, I think, would be enough evidence for them to take action, and that hasn't happened. Please, Harry, try to be calm about this."

"Can I talk to her about this?"

"I'm not sure that would be wise."

"Why not. It's not like I'd be tampering with the witness or anything. They've already talked to her." Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again in thought. "You could supervise," Harry offered. "I suppose it would look a bit suspicious… But I need to find out what's going on. Please, Professor…"

"I'll see what I can arrange," Minerva said, looking away. "Why don't you go back to your quarters? I'm sure you should discuss this with Ginny. Miss Vance isn't here anyway. She's gone home for a few days to rest. She's taking all of this rather hard herself. She was most upset after they had finished questioning her." McGonagall's expression turned to one of deepest concern and she looked at Harry with pleading in her eyes. "Please Harry, go and talk with Ginny, do nothing for now; that is my advice. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything."

Harry let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a groan of frustration. Slowly, and in deep thought, he turned and walked to the door. He looked up as Professor McGonagall touched his hand in a comforting way, and opened his mouth to thank her, but no sound came out. He simply nodded and walked out in silence.

The light from the torches that lit the hallways no longer seemed to dance with glee on the walls. The shadows grew dark and sinister, flicking about in a menacing fashion as the weight of everything that had just been said pressed heavily on Harry's hunched shoulders. A single tear rolled along his cheek as he realized one of his greatest fears might be coming true. Could the magic of Hogwarts Castle be so quickly and suddenly extinguished? Harry felt suddenly betrayed by the first place that had ever brought him happiness. He had once grown to know this place as his only true home. Now, he wanted nothing more than to simply run from the castle and never look back, and he hated himself for it.

* * *

Harry wandered the halls aimlessly for several hours. Students greeted him from time to time. He smiled weakly and waved in return, but could not bring himself to speak. Not knowing what he would say, he had avoided going home to Ginny. He simply couldn't believe what had just happened. 

As he wandered, kicking an untied shoelace back and forth with each step, he found himself in the middle of an empty corridor just as a swarm of students began returning from dinner, heading for their respective common rooms. Hoping to avoid any further confrontations, Harry quickly ducked into the nearest doorway and, without realizing it, found himself in his own office. Now he was stuck between a crowd of students on one side, and a most unpleasant conversation on the other. Knowing he would have to face her eventually, Harry steeled himself and slid his wand along the molding in the corner, revealing a most depressing-looking, stone staircase.

The lights were dim when he stepped into the living room. Harry checked his watch with concern; it was a few minutes before seven. A dull clunk sounded from the kitchen and Harry guessed Ginny must have been in there making dinner. Hoping to put off what he had to do for one moment longer, he walked quietly toward the bedroom to drop his things. Hearing another clunk he turned his head instinctively and looked behind him at the kitchen door, walking full force into Ginny in the darkened hallway.

"Ouch… Harry, you startled me. You're finally home. What kept you?"

"I'm sorry sweet-heart. I didn't mean to bump into you. It's awfully dark in here." Harry turned quickly into the bedroom and made a fuss over hanging his cloak neatly as he faced away from the door.

"Harry, is everything alright?"

"Sure, it's fine… Did I forget to get more oil for the lamps?" Harry walked quickly over to a lamp on the wall opposite the bed and checked the reservoir.

"Don't lie Harry, and don't change the subject. Something's wrong?" Ginny said with growing concern.

"What makes you say that?" Harry said, trying to sound surprised.

"Harry, you haven't even looked at me since you got here," Ginny said grimly.

Harry paused, his hands frozen. After a tense moment of silence, he finished adjusting the lamp and, with a great effort, finally looked up at Ginny. Her eyes drew him in, full with the warmth of love, and the darkness of concern.

"Harry, what is it?" Ginny walked over to him and took him by the shoulders, looking up at his drawn expression.

"Ginny, there's something I have to tell you."

For nearly an hour Harry filled her in on the details of everything Professor McGonagall had said, interjecting his speculations and theories in between, reading between the lines here and there. Her reactions were somewhat subdued and she stayed quite silent, sitting next to Harry on the edge of their bed. Now that he was going he simply wanted to get it over with and he was grateful for her quiet patience. When he finished, he looked up to see a tear drip from her cheek and fall silently onto his hand, which she was holding in hers.

"Ginny… I… You do believe me… Don't you?"

"Harry…" She looked up into his pain-stricken eyes and smiled, not the rigid, formal smile he had gotten from Professor McGonagall, nor the pained tug of the cheeks which was all he had managed as he passed students in the hallways, but one of warmth and love. Leaning in and wiping his eyes, she kissed him softly. For a moment, Harry's expression was one of shock, but he quickly melted into her arms and returned the kiss with tremendous passion. He felt the tension and darkness that had enveloped him over the past few hours flow out of him like water through a sieve. "I love you so much," Ginny punctuated the silence that followed.

"You believe me then?" Harry said hopefully.

"Of course I do. You're really very sweet Harry."

"Excuse me?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

"How can I not believe you when you're so worked up over all of this." Ginny rose, pulling Harry up behind her and out into the living room. "I've seen you with Emily in your office. I admit I was a little worried at first. She was calling an awful lot. But then I remembered back to when we were in school. In my third year, I must have gone to see Professor McGonagall twice a week. Percy was gone and I guess, I just missed mom and dad, and it was nice to have an adult to talk to. I can't imagine what it's like for Emily. She must miss her parents a lot."

"Yeah," Harry said darkly. Ginny wrapped her arm around Harry's side and rested her head against his shoulder.

"That's when I realized why she kept coming so often. She knows you relate to her in ways other adults can't."

"I thought of that too," Harry said softly, leaning into her warm embrace. "I guess, the same thing kind of happened with me. At some point I realized she was one of the few people who knew how I felt. I do very much enjoy her as a student, but only that. I hope you can trust me on that."

"I do trust you Harry. Why would I not." She squeezed him tightly. "Now, come and have some dinner. It's been stirring on the stove for ages."

She led Harry into the kitchen and began quickly clearing things away from the counter and grabbing plates and bowls from the cupboard. Harry noticed she looked oddly frantic as she set things up, as though she hadn't expected him for dinner at all. He reached into another cupboard for glasses, but she quickly shoed him away.

"Don't worry dear, I'll get it. You sit down. You've had an awfully hard day." Harry laughed at the sudden resemblance she had to her mother.

"Why are we eating in the kitchen? Is there something wrong with the dining room?"

"Oh no, I just thought this would be more cozy."

Harry shrugged and smiled at her as she bounced this way and that. Finally the soup had been poured, the bread sliced, and Harry was filling two glasses to the brim with pumpkin juice. Harry's spirits soared as he felt a giant weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he quickly forgot everything that had happened that afternoon. After dinner, Ginny relented when Harry insisted on doing the dishes, and left him to his work. As he stood at the sink, drying the last of the silverware with a hot jet of air from his wand, Harry heard a soft yelp from the next room.

"Are you alright?" he called.

"Fine," came Ginny's voice. Harry peeked around the corner and into the dining room just as Ginny was folding their best tablecloth and hastily stashing it in a cupboard. Curious, he walked into the room to see two place settings and two candles on the buffet, one of them smoking slightly.

"What's going on?"

Ginny yelped again and spun around. "Harry, you scared me."

"Ginny, what are you doing? Why were these candles lit? Did you already have dinner set up in here? Why did we eat in the kitchen then? And why the candles?" Harry thought quickly, trying to remember if there were an anniversary or something he had forgotten.

"Oh… well… I was just…"

"Sweetie? What's going on? You had a nice romantic dinner set up in here. Did I forget about something?"

"No, really, it was nothing. I just… changed my mind." Ginny looked pained and rubbed her hand absently along her side for a moment.

"Ginny, I can tell when you're lying too you know. What's going on? I hope this thing with the book and Emily didn't ruin your evening. Did you have something special planned?" Harry asked.

"Well… I uh…" Ginny looked into his worried eyes and realized he wasn't going to let it rest. "After everything that happened today I didn't want to complicate things further." She studied her toes for a moment.

"Complicate them how? Ginny, what's going on?" Harry asked more urgently.

"Harry…" she walked over to him, took his hands in hers and kissed him gently on the cheek. Cradling his head and rubbing her face against his, she whispered softly in his ear, and his eyes instantly grew to the size of Galleons.


	11. Chapter 10: Mothers

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 10: Mothers  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry and Ginny take a trip to St. Mungo's during which Harry finds out much more than he expected to. Later Harry presides over the first Quidditch game of the season and its aftermath, as well as the aftermath of something much more serious.

* * *

"Harry really, I could have done this on my own. Your students need you." Ginny sat down heavily in a rickety wooden chair next to her husband, glancing about nervously as lime-green robed wizards and witches bustled this way and that.

"My students have had plenty of me, and you've not had enough," Harry replied loyally. "Besides, with everything that happened yesterday, Minerva more than understood that I should have a day off. She actually suggested it before I got the chance to ask. Besides, this gives Mad-Eye the chance to scare the living daylights out of the kids again. He hasn't been able to do that for a while."

As Harry laughed, Ginny continued to glare at him. "You really shouldn't be taking advantage of the situation with that book just to get time off work," she admonished.

"You sound like Hermione," Harry groaned. "Why shouldn't I take advantage of it? It isn't my fault. Just because I'm using it for this doesn't mean I wouldn't have taken the day anyway. I may not have a good excuse in the future."

"Alright…" Ginny took his hand and looked into his pleading eyes. "I suppose you're right. I am glad you could come. Just promise me you won't frighten the Healers."

"And what makes you say something like that?"

"The fact that you can be very paranoid about these sorts of things. They're going to be nervous enough when they realize that they're examining the future child of 'The Chosen One.'"

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "You know, I never would have thought that the last person to let that one die would be my own wife."

"Well, I did rather like the term," Ginny smirked. "After all, I did 'choose' you," she chided, poking him in the middle of his forehead as though she were picking him out at a corner shop.

"You did no such thing. I believe I'm the one who proposed to you." Harry fiddled with her wedding ring as he held her hand.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about when we started going out, back in school."

"I asked you out then too."

"Yeah, after I practically bowled you over." Ginny smiled at the bewildered look in Harry's eyes as he relived the memory. "I still can't believe I kissed you in front of everyone in Gryffindor."

"No, no, no my dear," Harry said as he returned to the present. "I think your memory must be clouded. I kissed you." Harry reached over to prod her head as she had just done to him but she was too quick and grabbed his finger with her other hand.

"Hands off or I'll—"

"Mrs.… Potter?"

The Healer standing before them might have laughed at the goofy looks on Harry and Ginny's faces, if she hadn't suddenly recognized just who it was that was wearing them. Her eyes grew wide, but she managed to stifle the gasp that so desperately wanted to escape her lips. Instead, she raised her eyebrows questioningly and waited for a response.

"Yes. I'm Ginny Potter."

"This way please," the Healer responded, quickly turning down the nearest corridor.

The healer was a short witch with straight, dark-brown hair, speckled lightly with gray and pulled up into a loose bun. Her glasses were small and square, and sat unmoving at the tip of her long nose. She walked ahead of Harry and Ginny, avoiding their gaze and consulting her clipboard in order to, Harry suspected, stall for a bit of composure before she had to speak to them again. Harry stretched his neck to peer over her shoulder nervously as they marched down the hall. Ginny walked calmly, beaming as she glanced from one room to the next.

"You'll have to forgive the slightly cramped conditions," their Healer said as she pulled open a door near the end of the hall. "Normally we wouldn't be in the main building but they're doing the yearly overhaul and scourgification of the maternity wing and we've had to relocate temporarily," she informed them as she nodded them inside. "Ah good. Nobody else is here. I believe you're the last appointment of the morning so we should have privacy."

She magically locked the door behind them and indicated a pair of folding chairs sitting opposite a metal stool. Ginny perched herself comfortably on one chair as Harry wandered around, examining every inch of the room. It was long and narrow. Behind the folding chairs sat a small examination table and two stands containing an odd assortment of magical objects. Off to one side was a set of movable curtains similar to the ones Madam Pomfrey used in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. This setup had been repeated three more times along the length of the room and Harry was grateful that they were indeed alone.

"Harry, don't you want to sit down?" Ginny reached for him as he turned slowly, finishing his survey.

"I'm fine," he said absently, squeezing her hand.

"My name is Noreen Middleton," the Healer began. "I'll be taking you through the pregnancy process until your final month, and then you'll be working with a birthing specialist for the remainder. I have just a few questions before we begin the exam, but before we do that, do you have any questions of me?

"No, I don't think so. It's our first so I don't really know where to begin," Ginny said, a hint of apprehension betraying the cool demeanor she had been holding since they had arrived. Harry, who was now standing behind Ginny with his hands on her shoulders, held no calmness whatsoever.

"That's perfectly understandable," Noreen said kindly. "The questions will come to you as things progress."

Noreen seemed to have found her groove, assisted in no small part by the fact that she had not looked Harry in the eye once since they had sat down. Harry, however, was still a bit skittish, and hadn't noticed. After pausing for any questions from Ginny, Noreen flipped a page on her clipboard and readied her quill.

"When did you discover you were pregnant?"

"A week ago tomorrow," Ginny said calmly.

"A week?" Harry gaped at Ginny. "You kept this from me for a week?"

"Well, I wanted to be sure. I did the test potion, but it is a finicky one and they're not always reliable. Stop looking at me like that Harry. If it's any consolation, I had been planning on waiting until after this first exam, but I just couldn't wait any longer to tell you. When I got up yesterday I was so sure, I almost ran down and interrupted your class."

"That's fine and everything but…" Harry scratched his head absently. He began pacing in the small space between Ginny's chair and the examination table and his hand brushed against a strange object on one of the instrument stands. He recoiled his arm quickly, staring nervously at a metal ball slightly larger than a golden snitch, and looking affronted as if it had reached out and grabbed him. "You kept this from me for a week?" he said again.

"Get over it. And stop interrupting. We'll be here all day," Ginny said without turning around.

"So you tested positive with the maternity potion last Friday?" the Healer continued, taking down brief notes. "Where did you buy the potion?"

"Oh, I didn't buy it. I made it."

"You made it?" Healer Middleton looked shocked.

"Yes, I'm in my second year at the medical academy. I just finished _Intermediate Medicinal Potions_ last spring."

"Oh, I see," Noreen's quill ticked down another note. "So you probably knew to bring in a sample."

"I did." Ginny retrieved a small vial from her pocket. The fluid inside was a deep, cloudy pink.

"Pink. Does that mean…?" Harry looked curiously at the vial and squeezed Ginny's shoulder anxiously.

"No, it doesn't tell gender. Pink simply indicates a positive result," said Noreen, tilting the vial from side to side and peering at the fluid inside.

"Oh." Harry bit his lip thoughtfully and looked at the floor.

"If you want to know the sex of your baby there is a simple test we can do."

Harry looked curiously down at Ginny. "Do you?"

"I kind of wanted it to be a surprise," Ginny said timidly.

"I thought you'd say that. If that's what you'd like, I think that's a good idea," Harry looked away.

"Do you really?" Ginny said, reaching up and patting his hand on her shoulder, helping it to relax, "Or are you just saying that because I said it's what I wanted?" She pulled him over to her side so she could look at him, searching his bright green eyes with mild concern.

"It's okay. We'll wait. It'll be a nice surprise." Harry said resolutely. Ginny looked as though she still didn't believe him, but she seemed to decide it would be absurd to continue this argument, with her taking Harry's side and Harry conceding hers. Noreen waited for just a moment in the slightly strained silence. It was obvious she had heard this conversation hundreds of times and she waited patiently for Ginny's eyes to meet hers before she continued.

"Do you have an approximate idea of when you conceived?"

"I'd only be guessing. It could have been any day." Ginny raised a mischievous eyebrow at Harry.

"Ginny!" Harry whispered. His face went pink with embarrassment and his green eyes flashed dangerously. Noreen smiled knowingly and moved on.

"Well then," said their Healer, rising. "I think we can get on with the examination. If you'll just hop up on the table there, I'll just… I'm sorry, I meant…"

"Harry what _are_ you doing?"

"I meant for _Mrs._ Potter to use the table," said Noreen, trying hard not to laugh as she looked at a still very nervous and flustered Harry, who was now sitting on one edge of the exam table.

"Harry, maybe you'd feel better waiting outside," Ginny smirked at her bewildered husband. "This shouldn't take long, should it?"

"About five minutes," Noreen answered. "There are some nice chairs just outside the door. We'll be right out Mr. Potter."

Harry slid silkily off of the table, as though hoping nobody would notice he'd been up there, and walked over to Ginny. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" he asked, leaning his forehead against hers.

"At the moment I'm more worried about you." Ginny smiled warmly and took his hands. "I'll be fine. Go get yourself some tea or something."

Harry went out into the hall with great reluctance. He would much rather have stayed, but he found it impossible to deny the pleading look in Ginny's eyes. She was right. He was being stupid and making her more nervous with his own anxiety. He walked slowly towards a set of cushioned chairs set along the opposite wall a few feet down the hall, but he did not sit. Even outside of the room he was simply too nervous. Instead he made quite a project out of examining each of the portraits along their section of the hallway, yet managed to do so without really looking at them. He was gazing absently at a picture of a middle-aged witch in an emerald green shawl who was placing a tattered looking book on a shelf, tapping it with her wand, and staring nervously at Harry. Suddenly, Harry jumped as a pair of wizards in lime-green robes came bursting through a nearby door.

"I'm telling you I really think it'll work this time," said a rather excited healer with wavy, light-brown hair. "I've been researching it for years and I've finally found out the element I need to fix the potion. If this works it'll cut the mortality rate of Dragon Pox in half."

"But where did you find it?" said the other, a shorter man with balding black hair and a slight limp that kept them from walking as fast as the taller wizard seemed to want to go. "I've been searching for that cure for ages."

"Nadine got it from an old book at the ministry. We've been trying to get a hold of it for years, but apparently they'd misplaced it."

Harry's ears perked up and he stared after the two men. In the excitement following the previous evening's dinner, he had forgotten all about the top-secret book and the investigation that was looming over his head like a silent predator. He got a sudden feeling he had seen the taller man somewhere before but he couldn't place it. He wracked his brain as their voices faded into the distance.

"Excuse me!" Harry yelled as his eyes popped open in realization. He ran after the two healers retreating backs, yelling for them. "Excuse me," he said again as he reached them. They had stopped and were now staring curiously at Harry as though he were sprouting tentacles from his head. It was another split second before the short, balding wizard gasped softly and pointed at Harry's scarred forehead. Before the man could say anything, Harry turned to the tall wavy-haired man and said, "Are you by any chance related to Nadine Simmons?"

The wheels in the healer's head were working very hard now. Slowly he seemed to piece everything together and he examined Harry with restrained curiosity. "Yes, Nadine is my wife. You obviously know her from the Auror office. I should have known. I am Robert." He shook Harry's hand firmly. "Of course, I know who you are Mr. Potter, or should I say 'Professor'? You've given my son Eric a bit of a hard time these past two months."

Harry looked down for a moment, not sure of how to respond. "I'm sorry if… if I've been a bit harsh, Mr. Simmons," Harry stammered, "but I… I must maintain a sense of—"

"As far as I've seen, he deserved every bit of it." Mr. Simmons clapped Harry genially on the shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad he finally has a head of house who won't put up with his shenanigans. Good job."

"Um… Thank you sir," Harry said with a sudden sense of relief.

"Would you listen to that?" Mr. Simmons said to the still star-struck healer standing next to him. "He really is as polite as everyone says he is. Please, you can call me Robert. And this is my associate, Mr. Reginald Simonson." The balding man offered his hand weakly and Harry gripped it gently, feeling slightly awkward.

"Simmons and Simonson?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow?

"I know, wild isn't it. We should open up a private practice," Robert said with a hearty chuckle. "Is it all right if I call you Harry? Or would you prefer Professor? I know some teachers like parents to keep up that formality for the sake of their students."

"Um, Harry's fine outside of the school I guess."

"Jolly good. Now, was there something you wanted Harry?" Robert said, tilting his head forward and narrowing his eyes. Harry was struck by how lively and animated Robert's face was and almost laughed at the resemblance to his son.

"Oh yeah. I'm sorry," Harry looked at the floor again. "I couldn't help overhearing the conversation you were having when you walked past me earlier. You were talking about a book that Nadine found at the Ministry." Harry paused briefly, slipping into Auror mode, carefully thinking out the best way to word the next question. He didn't want to compromise the man's objectivity by giving something away. "Do you know which book it was?" He asked evasively.

Robert thought for a moment, massaging his chin as he pondered. "Nadine said it was a very strange, top-secret book. That's why she wasn't able to bring it home, she just copied out the passages I needed. I didn't catch the name of the book."

"I see," Harry said darkly, trying to hide his reaction to this promising fact, and putting on a face that suggested disappointment. "You mentioned that you'd been trying to get a hold of it for a while."

"Yeah, I heard about it from a colleague who had been developing a similar potion before he passed away. That was about six years ago. Nadine thought she remembered the book he'd been referring to and went to find it at the ministry. She found where it was _supposed_ to be, but it wasn't there."

"And this was six years ago?" Harry was thinking very quickly now.

"Let's see…" Mr. Simmons thought out loud, counting on his fingers and staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, just about six years give or take a month or two. I'll bet you were still in school back then."

"Yeah, I was," said Harry, his mind racing and excitement growing. If he was counting right, that book had been missing back when he was in his last year at Hogwarts. If that were the case, it was well before he had taken his post with the ministry three years later. He couldn't possibly have stolen a book that was already missing.

"Is there anything wrong?" Mr. Simmons said after a moment of prolonged silence.

"Oh, uh…" Harry snapped out of his trance. "No. Everything's fine. Mr. Simmons… Robert, Thank you for your time. I should let you get back to work."

"Thanks for stopping by Harry. It was really great to meet you. Do let me know if any of my kids give you any more trouble."

"Yeah, about that. I know Eric probably thinks I'm picking on him. I hope you can understand that I don't—"

"Harry. I've already told you not to worry about it. Eric needs to be put in his place every now and then. He's just at a difficult stage right now. Don't let up on him. He'll get over it. I trust you. Believe me, some day you'll have kids of your own and you'll know exactly where I'm coming from."

"Yeah, some day," Harry laughed and glanced down the hallway to see Ginny sticking her head out the door, looking for him. "Thank you again. I'd better get going. Have a good day."

"And you as well." They shook hands again and Harry trotted down the hall. All traces of anxiety had left him now. Ginny stared inquisitively at him as he leaned down to kiss her, grinning from ear to ear.

* * *

"That is quite a discovery Harry."

Professor McGonagall rose from her chair and began pacing, just as Harry had been doing since his arrival. Ginny sat comfortably, but anxiously in one of the Headmistress' cushy, blue armchairs. The past hour was a complete blur. Harry had been so excited when he was telling Ginny that she had to make him stop and repeat himself several times. Then, they had practically run up the stairs to the stone Gargoyle after flooing into the fireplace in Harry's office. All of this took practically no time at all; the rest of that hour had been spent explaining what had happened at the hospital.

"Well, aren't you glad I kicked you out of the room now?" Ginny asked smugly.

"Yeah…" Harry said breathlessly. "This couldn't be a better example of being in the right place at the right time. If I hadn't been there, it might have taken ages to discover this."

"I do wonder, though, why Nadine Simmons didn't report the book missing in the first place," Professor McGonagall mused. "I never completely trusted her, to be perfectly honest. I don't think she would ever have fallen to the dark side, but she wasn't always completely with it. A bit of a flake, really."

"That's the impression I got too." Harry said, still pacing, deep in thought. "Well, it's not the first book to go missing, by any stretch of the imagination. I suppose she just figured it was gone for a reason. Still, with such a volatile book, and she knew it was, especially at that time she really should have erred on the side of caution, and reported it. For all she knew, Voldemort could have stolen it, or had it stolen for him."

"But, of course, we know now that he hadn't." Professor McGonagall sat, thoughtfully. "Which brings us to the other unsolved part of this mystery. Who did steal it? And, even more mysterious, how did it end up in the possession of Emily Vance?"

"Wouldn't she say where she got it?" Harry asked, frustration crackling in his voice.

"I told you before," McGonagall responded tartly. "I am not privy to the findings of the Ministry's interview with her." Harry groaned. "However, I seriously doubt she would have told them, when she wouldn't even tell me."

"Tell you?"

"Yes. I questioned her myself while we waited for the Ministry delegation to arrive. She flatly refused. She just kept saying she had found it somewhere and that she didn't remember where."

"Was she lying?" Harry said darkly.

Minerva paused for a moment before answering. "I am inclined to say yes. I didn't see any evidence of foul play. Her memory seemed very much intact and she was quite lucid, so I don't think it was the result of a memory charm. Honestly, I'm not sure what she's hiding. I assured her over and over that she wasn't going to be punished. She obviously had no idea of the significance of that book. She's too smart to sit in the middle of the Three Broomsticks in broad daylight with a Top-Secret book that's been missing from the ministry for years, unless she didn't know it was. Yes. I believe she was lying. I have no idea why."

"I'll see what I can find out," said Harry, coming to a halt beside Ginny. "I'll talk to Nadine Simmons and see if she knows anything. Maybe there's something she didn't tell her husband."

"I understand you want to clear this whole thing up, and clear your name Harry, but you don't work at the Ministry anymore. Let them do their job. I'll pass on what you have told me. I'm sure they'll have a talk with both Nadine and Robert. They'll feel a lot better to finally have a solid lead. And I don't think they'll quickly forget who got it for them." She nodded confidently, adjusting her glasses.

"Thank you Minerva," Harry said with a sigh. "I really do appreciate your support on this. I hope you know that."

"You are very welcome Harry. You have always proven to be trustworthy, and you've had enough experiences that I trust your judgment explicitly. That being said, I have one other concern."

"Yes?" Harry said, looking curiously at her. He was quite sure he had covered every single angle of the issue in their long conversation.

"I had been under the impression that you took my offer for a day off so you could rest and take your mind off of these things. Of course, as is now apparent, you did neither." She glared over her glasses for a moment. "That is all fine. What you do for your own health is none of my concern. I must ask, however, what you were doing at St. Mungo's in the first place."

Harry felt as though a lead weight had settled into his stomach. In his rush to pass on the news, he had completely forgotten that, were he not on leave today, he would be in class at this very moment. Suddenly realizing how bad this all looked, he sank into the chair beside Ginny and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry Minerva. I didn't mean to mislead you. I know this doesn't look good."

"Harry, I just finished telling you how much I trust your judgment. I'm confident you wouldn't have left without a good reason. I am simply curious as to what that reason is."

"Oh, right. I almost forgot. Um…" Harry, his nervousness returning, fiddled with his glasses and stared at his shoes. "I was there with Ginny to uh… We were uh…"

"I went for my first maternal checkup," Ginny blurted when it became obvious that Harry wasn't about to spit it out.

"Ginny!" McGonagall practically knocked her chair over as she stood up and raced around her desk to smother Ginny in a hug. Harry was impressed at how well she moved at her age and laughed when Ginny blanched under the Headmistress's tight embrace. "That's wonderful. Oh, I'm so happy for both of you." And Harry experienced her bone-crushing chokehold for himself.

"What makes you think it's mine?" Harry said when she released him.

"What…?" McGonagall looked scandalized and turned to face Ginny just as her fist collided with Harry's shoulder.

"Harry likes his little jokes."

"Ouch. Do you always have to do that so hard?" Harry rubbed his sore arm and pouted in his chair. Ginny and Minerva laughed heartily.

"Well, this is wonderful. It's going to be a beautiful child."

"Well… Yeah" Harry said emphatically as he tugged on Ginny's chin. "I mean… look at her, just… look at her." McGonagall laughed again as Ginny swatted Harry's hands away.

"You know Ginny," said Minerva, sitting down again, "I had a feeling I might be hearing this announcement soon. When you missed the deadline to register for winter term at the academy I thought, 'maybe'…"

"So you figured that out did you?" Ginny said, glowering at Harry. "It took this genius two weeks to get that hint."

"You know me. I don't do hints." Harry smiled stupidly and kissed her cheek. "It's not like you need to. You know I'm a sucker who'll do whatever you ask me to."

Ginny smiled at Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows and holding up her pinky while pointing from it to Harry. Minerva just laughed and smiled broadly at the glowing couple sitting opposite her.

"You know Ginny," Harry said standing up, "since we have the day free we may as well use what's left of it. Let's say you and I drop in and give your mum a belated birthday present."

"Harry, that's a great idea. She'll never expect it. Oh this is going to be fun." Ginny bounced out of her chair and hugged Minerva again as she showed them both to the door. "And while we're down there, we may as well pop over and say hi to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione."

"Oh wow," Harry said, pausing to contemplate the gravity of what Ginny had just said. "Minerva? You wouldn't have any spare Draught of Peace would you?" Harry asked as they stood in the doorway.

"Fresh out. Why?"

"Because Ginny and I are about to embark on a suicide quest to deliver earth-shattering news to the three most reactionary people I know. I just thought a little stress reliever might come in handy."

"That may well be true," McGonagall responded with a chuckle. "Alas, I have none. I trust you'll manage without it."

And with that she bade them a happy farewell. Harry and Ginny were talking animatedly all the way down the stairs. As they turned the seventh floor landing, Harry was nearly knocked over as a mass of black robes and blonde hair slammed into him. In the ensuing ruckus, both Harry and his assailant spun several times, trying hard not to topple over. Finally Ginny intervened and righted both of them.

"Thanks," said a familiar voice.

"You're welcome," said Ginny.

"I'm really sorry Professor. I wasn't watching where I was going."

Harry's heart skipped a beat as a pair of sapphire blue eyes flashed his way and quickly looked down at the floor. "N- neither was I. I'm sorry Miss Vance. I…" Harry didn't know what was happening. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Something deep within him was screaming at him to stay away from her, like she was some kind of disease. Harry realized how irrational these thoughts were, but he couldn't quell them. By his observations Emily was enduring a similar sensation. Ginny looked from Emily to Harry and decided that she needed to break the silence.

"Hi, we've never met. I'm Ginny Potter." Ginny extended a hand to Emily who shook it gingerly.

"P- pleased to meet you." There was fear in her eyes as she chanced another look at Harry. Without saying another word, Emily gathered her bag and raced down the corridor to the portrait of the fat lady.

"Harry?" Ginny kneeled down and looked up into Harry's stone-cold eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I dunno. I had no idea this would happen," Harry said darkly. "I've never felt like this." He looked into her big brown eyes and felt some of the sensation return to his midsection. "It's like I'm terrified of her."

"Come on, let's get you to bed. We can tell mum another time."

"No. No, I'll be alright." Harry leaned heavily on the banister. "I just need a minute, and after that, I'll need a good distraction."

Harry was in decidedly better spirits when he and Ginny returned late that evening, having spent the afternoon at the Burrow and the rest of the evening with Ron and Hermione in Godric's Hollow. He was grateful that Ginny had not mentioned their encounter with Emily. Occasionally he caught her watching his gaze warily, fully aware that his mind did bounce back to it every few minutes, but she said nothing. The day had been so full of events, it felt to Harry as if the hospital visit of that morning had been a week ago. Before he knew it he was asleep.

* * *

It was the first time since September 2nd that Harry had really dreaded going to his classes. After the encounter with Emily the previous afternoon, he wasn't sure how he would react in front of his students. By some divine grace, he seemed to find his routine rather quickly and, as the day progressed, he had completely forgotten about his dark mood. The entire student body was wired and excited for the following day's Quidditch opener between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and their excitement was contagious to the Quidditch-loving Harry.

His last class of the day, with the seventh-year N.E.W.T. students, was more like a well-structured party than a lesson. Otis Crawford, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, caused a great ruckus by bringing along his favorite beater's bat. Harry kept the class on their toes by occasionally throwing hexes at them from behind his desk as they "studied" their reading for the day. Harry felt it was perfectly fair to go easy on this class the day before the match, since students from each house were in it. "Just be sure to have that read by next time. And remember to leave yourself time to practice your Patronus. If you aren't up to snuff I'll have to bring a dementor in here for practice, and trust me you don't want that."

"He's kidding right," Harry heard one rather nervous looking Hufflepuff saying as they left the class and joined the school-wide cacophony of raucous jubilee that had ensued in honor of the weekend match.

* * *

It was the shortest Quidditch match Harry had witnessed in all of his years at Hogwarts. The Gryffindor seeker, a boy named Clarence White, was nothing remarkable, Harry thought. For a third-year, he seemed a bit large to be a seeker and was not particularly agile on the broom. He made up for this with lightning fast reflexes and he could spot the snitch with surprising ease. On several occasions he went pelting after it, and even Harry's trained eye didn't see the snitch until halfway through the chase, which usually ended abruptly when the snitch changed course, and started again a split second later. If the snitch moved in straight lines more often, Harry thought, Clarence would have caught it much sooner.

The Slytherin team was embarrassingly weak. Harry couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction in the fact that Snape's once prized, and highly competitive team, had fallen so far so fast. Within five minutes the Gryffindor Chasers had racked up a score of 170 to Slytherin's 10 (a goal that seemed to surprise the Slytherins more than anyone else). Harry was quite impressed with the team Otis had put together. The chasers were very good and extremely well coordinated for this time of the year, especially with two new recruits to train. The Gryffindor team was stunned when Harry awarded two penalty shots in quick succession to the Slytherin team for what seemed like very minor contact.

"Come on Professor, this is Quidditch, not Gobstones. It's supposed to be physical," said Otis as they hung back and watched a miniscule third-year chaser lobbing a particularly pathetic shot that wouldn't have gone through a hoop even if the Gryffindor Keeper hadn't caught it.

"Those were both very rude fouls," Harry responded, temporarily blurring the line between his roles as Head of House and referee. Outside this one instance, Harry was determined to remain impartial. "I don't want my team gloating. Keep it clean."

To everyone's surprise, it was the Slytherin Seeker (a lanky 5th year, who seemed to enjoy his role because it allowed him to sit still and do nothing for most of the match) who got the first real chance at catching the snitch, pelting around the edge of the stadium, closing in on the golden, winged walnut. Fortunately for Gryffindor, the snitch took a favorable turn and headed straight at Clarence. Most people wouldn't have had time to react, but Clarence's hand was instantly a blur as it reached up with lightning fast speed and accuracy, snatching the snitch from the air with a holler of victory. He turned out of the way just in time to avoid a head on collision with the very bewildered Slytherin Seeker.

If the match had been less than challenging for the Gryffindor team, you never would have known from the celebration that ensued, which rivaled any of the parties Fred and George threw in their day. It was a thoroughly frustrated Harry that, for the third time that night, entered the common room to shoo everyone to bed. "You've got exactly twenty seconds to get upstairs if you want to keep a single one of the points you've earned so far this year!" he bellowed. Having had a particularly good start to the year in the race for the House Cup, this got their attention very quickly. Harry wasn't sure how so many people managed to cram themselves through the two staircase doors so quickly, but he was so tired he didn't care.

As the portrait closed behind him, he rubbed his eyes and started for the staircase, longing for his warm bed. He almost didn't hear the sob that echoed down the opposite corridor. Turning, he saw a short silhouette approaching.

"Who's that there? _Lumos._" Harry's wand lit up to reveal the red and tear streaked face of Emily Vance. His stomach churned and he felt that same burning, screaming fear that had overwhelmed him the previous Thursday. It must have been the heart-wrenching look on her face that broke through this strange emotion. "What are you doing out at this time of night? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she choked through a cracked voice, and turned for the portrait of the fat lady.

Harry wasn't completely aware of what he was saying. Somehow, that same screaming voice from within him had changed and now pleaded with him to help her. "This doesn't look like nothing. Come now, we'll have a cup of hot chocolate and talk. I have no idea what you've been through these past few days, but I can see enough to know you'll never feel better if you just keep it all bottled up inside. You said you'd like someone to talk to sometime. You may not realize it but this is one of those times. Come on. You'll never get to sleep in this state anyway."

Without a word, she followed solemnly behind him as he led the way down the stairs. She hesitated for a moment when he bypassed the first floor and the familiar path to his office, but followed automatically as he made his way down the stairs. She didn't even notice as Harry stopped in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit, tickled the pear, and pulled open the door to the Hogwarts Kitchens.

"I thought we'd do better with some neutral ground." Harry walked over to a corner where a few mismatched wooden chairs sat near a scrubbed wooden table. "Excuse me," he addressed a passing house-elf, "Do you have any hot chocolate made up by any chance."

"Yes sir, Professor. We keeps a pot ready at all times." And the elf scurried off to another corner. Seconds later a cloth had been spread on the table and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate sat there, along with a plate of biscuits and pastries, and a very discreetly deposited handkerchief.

Harry waited patiently as Emily dabbed at her eyes and held her hands around the warm mug. Finally she took a tentative sip and the dull cloud that hung around her head seemed to lighten slightly. "I'm so sorry Professor. I don't know what they've told you. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Her lower lip began to tremble again and she looked away.

"Emily," Harry said softly, "I want you to know that you can stop talking at any time. But I want you to try. Trust me, you'll feel better. What's wrong?"

"I'm just so scared," she sobbed loudly.

"What are you scared for?"

"My mother." 


	12. Chapter 11: Fidelius

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 11: Fidelius  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Summary: Harry and Emily talk things over, and manage to shed some light on the mystery. Harry discovers who took the book, but more importantly why it was taken.

* * *

"Your mother?" Harry said, taken aback. "Don't you mean your grandmother?"

"No!" she wailed, crying openly now. Harry could stand it no longer and pulled her into his embrace. She accepted his gesture willingly and buried her face in his shoulder as he rocked her gently. After a minute, Harry came to the realization that Emily's grief was forcing her instinctually to hold on as long as possible. She was just going to stand there, leaning into him, until he broke away. Slowly he lowered his shoulder and, simultaneously, grasped her arms.

"Miss Vance," he began softly, "what is it that's scaring you? Does this have something to do with the…" The pause was deafening as Harry's mind churned. Emily looked up into his eyes, which snapped him back into reality, "…the book!" Emily nodded and slowly returned to her seat as Harry continued to stare off into space, thinking.

He was remembering a dream he had been having during the precious few minutes of sleep he had gotten between trips to Gryffindor Tower. In his haste to reach the tower, he had completely forgotten the dream until now.

He had returned to the hospital corridor he and Ginny visited two days before. He was pacing nervously just as he had before, gazing at the portraits on the wall, but something was different this time. The same cushioned chairs that had been empty before now held Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley, all looking thoroughly anxious. Harry walked nervously over to the doorway, willing it to open, to relieve the suspense. He gazed about fretfully, and then he saw it, the old portrait on the opposite wall. The scene was a darkened library. A few indistinguishable figures sat back in the dim corners of the room, minding their own business. The suspicious looking woman in the green shawl appeared again. She looked distantly familiar. Harry watched as she lifted a tattered book from her bag and stuffed it, randomly, into a space on a bookshelf. She tapped it with her wand and looked nervously over at Harry. Her gaze never left his eyes, and Harry realized that she wasn't just looking off in that direction, she was looking right at him. She pointed at the book on the shelf, which Harry saw was quickly surrounded and pushed out of sight between the other books.

Harry played over the dream in his mind several times before speaking. "Miss Vance, did your mother give you that book?" he said slowly.

"Not… not exactly," Emily responded evasively.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, based on what they told me about the book, I think I've figured out that she was the one who took it from the ministry, but I don't know why."

"Go on," Harry encouraged. He got the distinct feeling that she had been working this out for the better part of the last week. He wanted to push her, to get as much information as possible yes, but also because he knew that the longer she talked, the better she'd feel.

"I was seven when she died, so it must have been at least seven years ago. Did you ever meet her? I know you worked at the ministry?" Emily continued, dabbing her eyes again.

"I was still in school when she died, but I did meet her once. She was working for the Order of the Phoenix. How did you get the book?" Harry steered the conversation away from the volatile subject of her deceased parents. "You didn't just find it somewhere did you?" He said severely as he peered over his glasses at her.

"Actually, I kind of did. I'm sorry I lied to Professor McGonagall, but I was afraid of what they might say about my mum if I told them." There was coldness in her eyes as she finished her sentence. By 'them,' Harry thought she must have been referring to the ministry investigators that interrogated her. He noticed she didn't apologize for lying to them. It became obvious that she was no fan of certain people within the Ministry. Harry could hardly blame her for associating 'them' with her parents' deaths.

"Did she leave it somewhere for you to find?" Harry speculated.

"Well, I found it in my trunk when I got to Hogwarts at the start of term this year. I think my grandmother put it in there, assuming it was mine. She's even more forgetful than usual lately. She'll spend hours cleaning and reorganizing the bookshelves at home, and she hates it when I put one back out of order. I guess she found this one and, when she didn't recognize it, she decided it was one of my school books I had put there by mistake."

"I see. Do you have any idea how it got there?" Harry was thinking again of the portrait at St. Mungo's and made a mental note to check it again.

"No, we lived in London, but Grandmother lives in Dartford. Mum must have put it there. They didn't bring very many of my parents' books over after I moved in, and those all went in my room."

"What can you tell me about the book?" Harry was fishing now, but he wanted her to tell him as much as she knew or suspected.

"It was very odd. I couldn't understand a word of it. It was in English, but I still couldn't understand it. It was like… Do you ever read something that's so foreign and technical that you just can't understand a single word of it no matter how hard you try?" Harry nodded, smiling as he thought of what lengths Hermione would have gone to trying to read this 'unreadable' book. "It was just like that, but stronger and more frustrating than I've ever felt it before. I couldn't even figure out what the book was about. I got this strange feeling like I wasn't supposed to understand it." Emily paused for another sip of chocolate and bit hungrily into a cookie.

"Why did you take it down to Hogsmeade?" Harry said, suddenly realizing that he too had a warm mug in front of him. Finally he relaxed into his own first sip.

"I really wanted to look through the village, since I didn't get to last year, but I also really needed to work on that essay, so I took it with me, figuring I could find a nice place to sit and study."

"I can understand that, but I meant why did you take the book if you couldn't even understand it?"

"Oh, right. Well, I got a few books on Time-Turners and temporal phenomenon from Madam Pince, and one of them said something about a secret, unnamed book. It sounded an awful lot like the one I had, so I took it along figuring I'd give it one last look." Emily paused for another sip. "This time when I opened it, it turned right to a specific page labeled _Time-Turners_, and all of a sudden I could understand what it said."

"Wow," Harry said in a low voice, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "You really were determined weren't you?"

"I'm sorry Professor?"

"You've managed to fool a pretty powerful charm there young lady. You'd do well in the Department of Mysteries."

"What kind of charm?" she asked, refusing to be distracted by Harry's flattery. Harry knew the look she gave him all too well. Her insatiable curiosity was emerging from an unusually prolonged period of disuse. Now that she was feeling better it was back in full force and ready to make up for lost time.

"It's called a _Need to Know_ charm," Harry went on without hesitation. "It's usually placed on memos and briefings where secrecy is important." Harry laughed as she leaned closer in suspense, completely forgetting the reason for the handkerchief she was holding. "The way it works is, you won't be able to read it unless first, you know exactly what information you're looking for; and second, you are directed there by another source or reference. Usually for memos people will send two. The first one will be a normal one that refers to the second one, but won't say why, the expectation being that the recipient already knows why. Do you follow me?"

"Yes," she said eagerly. "So you're saying that I was able to read the book because I 'knew' what I was looking for and where it was."

"Well, you didn't in the intended sense. You aren't supposed to be able to break the charm simply with implicit knowledge or deduction. You need to be told outright. Somehow, you managed to get through it anyway. Tell me, do you still have the book that referenced this one?"

"No, I turned it in. I've forgotten the name, but it's on my essay. I can give it to you early if you want; it's already finished."

Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Why am I not surprised? I never would have believed it if someone had told me how much a teacher can learn from his own students." Emily beamed, her cheeks a pale pink color. "Feeling better?" Harry asked, rising.

"Loads!" Emily stood resolutely.

"Good." Harry grabbed both of their empty mugs the plate of sweets, and was reaching for the tablecloth when it was whipped from his grasp by a passing house-elf. Another followed closely behind and took the dishes from him. "Thank you very much. It was wonderful," he said awkwardly.

"We is glad you likes it," said a third elf, the same one Harry had addressed when they came in. "Please come back any time, Professor… Miss…" and with that he bowed deeply to each of them, and scurried off to a set of wood stoves, on which the beginnings of Sunday breakfast was now sizzling happily.

"Professor?" Emily said timidly.

"Yes Miss Vance?"

"I'm glad you're not scared of me."

"What?" Harry said, whipping his head around in surprise.

"The other day, you seemed… I don't know… Maybe I was imagining it, but there was something they said when they questioned me. I'm not sure what they were getting at but, I got the feeling they didn't like that I was spending so much time with you outside of class. When you wouldn't even look at me, I thought maybe they'd talked to you and told you to stay away from me. I was really afraid that you were avoiding me."

"I, uh…" Harry was unsure of how to respond. He had been suppressing that lingering voice of caution throughout the conversation. He wanted to ignore it, but it simply wouldn't leave him alone.

"Anyway," Emily said offhandedly as she led the way to the fruit-bowl door. "I'm glad you're not. And I'm really glad we could talk. I didn't realize how much I needed…" Emily looked pained for a moment then, without warning, she turned and flew into Harry's mid section, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Thank you… for everything."

After an awkward moment, Harry patted her head softly. He closed his eyes and breathed a great sigh of relief. With that escaping air, the last echo's of the painful voice inside him faded into nothing as he said softly, "Any time."

* * *

"Harry, where have you _been_? I've been worried sick. It's almost noon, you've been gone for hours." Ginny's face was livid as she accosted Harry in the entryway to their flat. Harry instantly went from looking extremely happy to cautiously remorseful.

"Ginny, hang on a minute," Harry finally interjected. "Let me explain."

Ginny crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. The look on her face suggested she would be highly surprised if his excuse would be good enough. Harry was again reminded of Mrs. Weasley, with the notable exception that Mrs. Weasley's glares were rarely ever directed at him.

"I've solved it. I know what happened with that book. I'm cleared!" Harry exclaimed hopefully.

"I know you are," Ginny responded matter-of-factly.

"What? Well of course you believe me. I was kind of counting on _your_ support."

"Harry, do you know what I'm holding in my hand?"

Harry looked over suddenly. He hadn't even noticed the sheet of heavy parchment she held in her right hand, which appeared to be a rather official looking letter. "No," he said cautiously, staring ominously at it. Her penetrating glare betrayed none of the note's contents, and his concern grew with each passing second.

"It's a letter from The Office of Internal Ministry Affairs."

Harry gulped. He had had only one previous encounter with the O.I.M.A. and it wasn't a pleasant experience. Somehow, a reformed Death Eater had sneaked his way into Harry's department. The ministry had made some rather generous concessions to these individuals, given the general hatred the wizarding public had for them after the war. One place they were not allowed to work, however, was in the department of Aurors. It turned out that it was Harry's outgoing predecessor as head of the department that had hired the man, but that detail hadn't been discovered in time to keep Harry's face off the front page. It was with a mixture of fear and deepest loathing that he looked down at the letter in Ginny's hand. "What does it say?"

Without a word, Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I've already told you. It says, in so many words, that you've been cleared. Something you've apparently wasted all morning trying to prove."

Harry laughed with relief and picked Ginny up, spinning her joyfully around the room. When he finally set her back down, it was with a very long kiss.

"Harry!" Ginny gasped, pulling away. "I do need air you know." She sat down on the couch, fanning herself and handed Harry the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

In light of information provided to us by Professor Minerva McGonagall on your behalf, and as a result of subsequent testimony given by Nadine Simmons, we write to inform you that you are no longer considered a person of suspect in the ongoing investigation into the disappearance of a Top-Secret ministry document. Any pending charges have been dropped and all instances of your implication in this matter have been stricken from your record. The department would like to thank you for your cooperation and the information you have provided. Our apologies for any inconvenience we may have caused you.

Sincerely,  
The O.I.M.A.

Harry snorted several times as he read, most especially at the word "inconvenience." When he finished he threw the letter into the fire in disgust and plopped down next to Ginny.

"They seem awfully rude, not even signing the letter," Ginny said as she watched the burning letter disappear in a puff of smoke and ashes.

"They're more secretive than the Department of Mysteries," Harry responded flatly. "They don't want people to know who's been investigating them, for fear of retaliation. As far as I've seen it's because they deserve it."

"So what were you doing that kept you out all morning?" Ginny said, turning her gaze back to Harry.

"Well, you know I had to go up to Gryffindor Tower—again. On my way back I ran into Emily. She'd been crying and seemed quite upset about everything that's been going on, so I took her down for a cup of hot chocolate and we talked about it."

"That's very nice Harry. Professor McGonagall did that for me a couple of times." Ginny leaned over and rested her head against Harry's shoulder as he talked.

"It was really no wonder she was upset. She's very smart you know, and she'd figured out exactly how she got that book, even though she didn't know for sure. I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of it myself but…" Harry sighed and pondered silently for a moment. "Anyway, she thinks it must have been her mother Emmeline who took it and hid it at her mother's, Emily's grandmother's, house. Emily didn't want to tell anyone because she was afraid of what they might say about her mother."

"But how did Emily get it?"

"I'm coming to that. She lives with her Grandmother now and, let's just say, the old lady's a little forgetful and not all-together there." Harry tapped his head with his forefinger. "Emily thinks her Grandmother must have found the book and assumed it was hers, so she stuck it in Emily's trunk before she left for Hogwarts."

Harry went on to tell Ginny about how they discovered the secrecy charms that had been placed on the book and how they worked. "So she just kept a tattered old book she couldn't even understand?" Ginny said with amusement. "She sounds _exactly_ like Hermione. But Harry, I saw Emily early this morning down in your office. She stopped by to drop off her paper for you. I left it on your desk. Where else did you go?"

"I was coming to it. While Emily and I were talking, I remembered a dream I had been having about St. Mungo's and that reminded me of a portrait I saw there. Something about it looked familiar."

"So you had to go back and check it out." Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh how well you know me."

"Harry, if this had happened in the middle of the week what would you have done all day until you got time to go down there." Ginny smirked

"I don't want to think about that," Harry said morbidly, making Ginny laugh. "So I found her again."

"Found who?"

"Emmeline Vance. She was the one in the portrait I thought I recognized. Once I realized who it was, I remembered where I'd seen her before. She was with the group from the Order who came and rescued me from the Dursleys' house and took me to Grimmauld Place. Anyway, I went down to St. Mungo's and had a chat with her. Her portrait is actually over in the lobby, but she had followed us down the hall and was trying to get my attention the entire time. It's funny. She was so frustrated with me. I had been standing there, right in front of her and staring at her, and I didn't even notice she was trying to show me something."

"Show you something?"

"She showed me how she hid the book." Harry got up and walked over to the bookshelf, demonstrating how she had placed the book and tapped it with her wand. Slowly, Harry's copy of _10,000 MORE Magical Herbs and Fungi_ was surrounded by the books on either side of it, and disappeared from sight.

"Harry was that a Fidelius Charm?"

"Well spotted. It took me a moment actually." He looked back at her sheepishly as he resumed his position as her headrest.

"Then something must have broken the charm," Ginny reasoned. "Who was her secret keeper?"

"Her mother. I went to see her after I left St. Mungo's. She's a nice enough lady, very hospitable, but I can see why Emily is so worried about her. She must've offered to refill my teacup about ten times in the five minutes I was there."

"Oh dear. Do you think something went wrong with the charm and that's what's affecting her memory?"

"It is possible. That charm is based on trust primarily and, if it is broken, I suspect it could have consequences. Apparently Wormtail grew even more cowardly after he betrayed my parents," Harry said with bitter satisfaction. "The wretch didn't have the backbone to protect their secret, so I suppose it was poetic justice."

Ginny nodded silently and stroked his hair in a comforting way.

"The thing I don't understand," Harry continued, "is why Emmeline would choose to use the charm like that. You saw how it slid out of sight. That meant the secret she was concealing was the _location_ of it, just like Dumbledore did with Headquarters. That works very well on houses and things that never move, but this was a book. After so many years, it was only a matter of time before it got moved around which, theoretically, could break the charm." Harry got up again, and walked toward to the bookshelf again. "On the same thread as Wormtail's problem, if her breaking the charm was because she had forgotten about it, that forgetfulness could have gotten worse as a consequence, just like Wormtail's cowardice became even more despicable."

"That's awful. Remind me never to be anyone's secret keeper. I don't want anything like that to happen to me or anyone I…" Ginny looked at Harry with worried eyes. "Harry, don't you dare move that book!" Harry had the same thought and flicked his wand at the bookshelf, releasing the charm and revealing the book once again.

"Good catch," Harry breathed with a sigh of relief at the close call.

"I'll say. We don't need your obsession with making a point getting any worse than it already is."

"Huh?"

"That would have been the reason you broke the charm: to prove your point. Based on the pattern, that trait would have gotten worse."

"Right… good thinking." Harry sat down once again, this time a little more tense. They sat for a few silent minutes while Harry fiddled with a lock of Ginny's red hair.

"So when are you going to tell the O.I.M.A. about all of this?" Ginny said to break the silence.

"Not until I finish figuring this out. They're not high on my priority list," Harry responded coldly.

"But what's left to figure out? You know Emmeline took the book, and where and how she hid it, _and_ how it got to Emily."

"Yes, but I don't know _why_ she took it. From all I've heard, Emmeline was an outstanding witch. She was a renowned Healer before she joined the Order and became an Auror. Why would she steal a top-secret book and hide it in a place like that." Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "I suppose we might never know. She was killed just a few weeks later and she probably took the secret to her…" Harry's mouth slowly dropped and his eyes opened wide "Oh my god," Harry whispered to himself, placing one hand over his mouth.

"Harry… What is it?" Ginny sat up with concern. "What's wrong?"

"That's why she was killed. All of those secrets, all of that information… She was hiding the book from Voldemort and they killed her trying to find it, probably Mr. Vance too. Oh no." Harry buried his head in his hands. Ginny patted him softly on the back.

"Harry. You have to tell Emily," she said resolutely.

"Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because she deserves to know. Right now she's out there wondering the exact same thing you just were: 'Why would my mother steal that book?' She has a right to know the truth, to know that her parents died for a great cause. A cause, I might add, that was a complete success. Voldemort never got that book."

"I'm not sure if I'm the right person to tell her. Maybe I should tell her grandmother and then—"

"No, Harry. Like it or not, Emily has developed a strong relationship with you. You're the closest thing to a father figure she has right now. This whole thing started because of an assignment for _your_ class, and you're the one who figured all of this out. Think about it Harry; who better to tell her than the only other person she knows who's also lost both parents to Voldemort. You know how she feels, and she realizes that. Trust me, you'll know what to say."

"If you say so."

"When have I ever been wrong?" Ginny said, getting up and walking into the kitchen. "Now come have some lunch"

"If you say so," Harry said again under his breath.

"I heard that!" 


	13. Chapter 12: A Winter Getaway

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 12: A Winter Getaway  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Emily's essay earns her a visit from the Head of the Department of Aurors. The school discusses the results of the second Quidditch game of the year, and the prospects for the rest of the season. Before anyone knows it, winter is upon them and Christmas is just around the corner.

* * *

"My goodness Harry. Are you sure of this?"

"As sure as I can be. Everything fits. Given what we know, this is the most logical conclusion. Please Hermione, you really need to make this happen for me. She's been through enough already."

"I'll see what I can do. It's not easy keeping these things quiet, but it is necessary from time to time. After all, there's really nothing to be gained by announcing all of this publicly. I suppose there's no harm in just putting it away quietly. I do think the Minister should know, of course, and the Order members who knew them."

"Agreed. Just don't tell Fudge. He'll want to shout it from the mountain-tops if he hears about who stole that book and why."

Hermione sat comfortably in the high-backed chair behind Harry's desk. Harry, meanwhile, wandered the room, fiddling anxiously with the sleeve of his robes. "Honestly Harry, I don't understand why _you're_ so nervous. It's just a simple class assignment," Hermione said easily.

"You wouldn't be here if it were 'simple' Hermione. This essay has been through a lot, considering. Anything that gets the Head of the Department of Aurors to come out isn't 'simple.'"

"Frankly, Harry, it _isn't_ enough to get me out here. I came because you asked me to." Harry shrugged and continued his pacing.

"That's because I know you can handle it delicately," Harry said smoothly, "without stepping on anyone's toes. You're much better at that than I was."

"Maybe," she said skeptically, flipping through several sheets of parchment sitting in front of her, in an effort to avoid Harry's penetrating green eyes. "Why Time-Turners?" she said almost to herself.

"I honestly don't know how she got onto it. She gave me a right good scare when she brought it up."

"I can imagine," Hermione scanned the courtyard visible through Harry's office window. "She knows a surprising amount for someone who's never actually seen a Time-Turner, let alone used one."

"You're probably the only person who knows more, outside the Department of Mysteries." Hermione glared at Harry and looked around the room nervously. "Don't worry, I've checked everything," Harry assured her. "The room is fully secure. Besides, you had authorization, remember?"

"Not for everything Harry, not for letting you use it, and certainly not for aiding in the escape of two condemned prisoners."

"Details, details." Harry waved a hand casually in Hermione's direction as he turned and gazed out at the distant forest. The trees swayed lightly in the breeze as the evening sun gilded their tips in shimmering gold. Narrow plumes of smoke rose from where he knew Hagrid's cabin sat, drifting lazily away with the autumn wind.

"You know Harry, I've been thinking about that time in our third year, when we used my Time-Turner. What was that, ten years ago?"

"Yeah," Harry said softly without turning around. He had just been remembering the same thing. "I've thought about that night a lot these last few days."

"If I had read Emily's paper back then, I don't know if I would have been able to go through with it," Hermione said, swallowing hard at the thought. "We knew the complications involved, but still, it's all so unpredictable. We really were very lucky nothing went wrong. And you, jumping out like that with your Patronus. You're lucky you didn't create a temporal paradox."

"And why is that?" Harry glared at Hermione, his face hard and determined.

"Calm down Harry. I was just saying that it could have been a lot worse. Using the Time-Turner to modify your own time-line is really risky."

"I didn't."

"Yes you did. You saw the dementors closing in on our other selves and you knew we wouldn't be able to fend them off, so you conjured the Patronus yourself."

"But I didn't modify what happened. Don't you see?" Harry reasoned, turning to face his friend. "The only risk would have been to do something other than what we already knew was going to happen. I was simply fulfilling the future portion of the timeline, as I had seen it from my former self."

"I don't understand."

"Listen." Harry walked over to the desk and leaned heavily on it. "The first time through…" he drew an imaginary line on the desk with his finger, "…someone sent a Patronus across the lake to save us from the Dementors. Then, when we went back in time…" he lifted his finger and moved it back to the beginning of his line. "…I was the one standing on the other side of the lake. I wasn't taking a risk because I was doing exactly what I had already seen happen. Maybe if I had tried to do something else something might have gone wrong, but I didn't."

"You were just completing the cycle," Hermione finished for him."

"Exactly. It's complicated I know. I've thought about that problem a lot. Any way you look at it, I don't think I ever really want to try something like that again. The chances for a paradox are just too great."

"You know, Emily's really got this figured out pretty well," Hermione said, flipping through the essay in front of her. "I especially liked her example of a hypothetical paradox loop."

"Which one is that?"

"Haven't you read it?

"Yes, but I've been a bit distracted with all the… Never mind, just tell me."

Hermione flipped a couple of pages. Harry returned to the window as she began to read. " 'A temporal paradox loop is the most feared side effect of Time-Turner use—' "

"Skip ahead, I remember that part."

"Oh, uh… Let's see… Yes, 'One such hypothetical situation could occur if you were to go back in time to any point previous, and accidentally or intentionally kill your former self. Doing so would modify the timeline resulting in a situation where your current self never existed. This being the case, you would no longer be able to kill yourself because you are already dead, and so your former self survives, only to remain alive long enough to return in time and kill you all over again. Thus creating…' "

" '…A never-ending cycle of two alternating, contradicting realities.' "

"You do remember," Hermione said brightly.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Harry said with satisfaction. A sudden knock on the door made him jump and turn, readying his wand in the same motion.

"Harry… It's probably Emily." Hermione stared over at him quizzically. "Should I get the door?"

"No. I can manage," Harry shot back, stowing his wand with as much subtlety as he could muster as he marched over to the door.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were losing your edge," Hermione said, shaking her head after a thoroughly embarrassed Harry.

"I'll be fine," he stuttered. When he reached the door, Harry took a moment to set a calm demeanor on his face, and then wrenched it open firmly. "Miss Vance. Thank you for coming. Please come in." Harry thought his voice sounded rigid and overly formal. He took a deep breath as Emily passed in front of him. "I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Hermione Weasley from the Department of Aurors."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Emily said politely, shaking Hermione's hand before turning back to Harry. "How are you feeling professor?"

"I'm fine." Harry said abruptly, losing his façade of tranquility and closing the door more firmly than he had intended to.

"Are you sure? Ever since that jinx in class you've been a bit—"

"It's nothing. I'm fine!" Harry said, glaring at Emily who suddenly busied herself with her schoolbag as she sat down in her usual seat in front of the desk.

"What jinx?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh uh…" Emily said cautiously, eyeing Harry.

"Oh go on then," Harry said with an air of defeat. "The jokes up anyway. You and your big mouth."

"Harry! How could you say such a thing?" Hermione scolded. Emily, however, laughed. "What is he talking about?" she asked Emily.

Emily cleared her throat and smiled, suppressing a giggle. "Well, today in class, Frank Ellington surprised the Professor when we were practicing the Jelly-Legs jinx."

"He didn't surprise me," Harry corrected. The color of his face was growing more intense. "I just underestimated him."

"You see, Frank had been struggling with it for a while so, this time, the Professor partnered up with him, to give him a little extra help. He's always really good about giving special attention when someone needs it."

"Humph," Harry snorted.

"Harry, hush," Hermione spat without looking at him. Harry folded his arms and returned to his position by the window.

"What he didn't know was that I showed Frank a little secret, and he's really gotten the hang of it. The next thing we knew, Frank had jinxed him."

"For the last time I wasn't ready," Harry retorted as both girls laughed

"Not ready for a fourth-year's Jelly-Legs jinx Harry?" Hermione chided between fits of giggles. "Bring back bad memories?" Harry ignored her and continued staring through the window.

"What memories?" Emily asked.

"Oh, I got him with the same jinx back in _our_ fourth year. He's never really forgiven me for it."

"It wasn't the jinx that did it," Harry said more calmly. "It was the fact that it took you ten minutes to look up the bloody counter-curse. Emily managed it much faster than that, and she wasn't even the one who did the curse." Harry turned and leaned his back against the windowsill. He caught Emily's eye and winked. Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"You know, you have the hardest time remembering certain things," Hermione groused, "and then something silly happens like that and you never let it die."

"I'm just saying, 'brightest witch in our year,' but it takes you ten minutes to look up a simple counter-curse. Ulterior motives perhaps?" Harry smiled playfully.

"That's right Harry, I just live to see you suffer. But, 'great tragedies of the world' aside, why don't we get down to business?"

"Best idea you've had all day." Harry walked over and took the seat next to Emily, sitting up very tall and staring at Hermione. "Don't worry Emily, whatever happens, I'll take care of it. I'm sure it's just some big misunderstanding." Harry glared back at Hermione with mock outrage, as though she were the school headmistress, calling them in for a disciplinary meeting.

"Harry would you stop!" Hermione failed to stifle her laughter. "You're going to make poor Emily nervous." Hermione turned away from Harry who had dropped his jaw in false indignation. "Don't pay any attention to him. He knows exactly why you're here and it's nothing bad."

"Okay?" Emily said hesitantly, trying hard not to grin at Harry's overly obvious gestures of mock skepticism.

"Professor Potter asked me to come up and review your latest essay for his class. First of all, you should know that he has explained to me the situation with you and the book and your parents." Hermione paused for a moment until Emily nodded her understanding, looking a little worried. "Rest assured that I will hold this information in the strictest confidence. I understand that you would like to keep this private; it's a perfectly reasonable request. When I return to the ministry I will close all loose ends of the investigation and seal the case-file. I know the circumstances of your parents' deaths must be very hard for you, but I hope that you are proud of them. They sacrificed more than anyone can ever expect in the hopes of helping to defeat Voldemort. Their contribution may very well have kept valuable information out of the hands of those who would do harm. Remember that always."

Emily nodded resolutely and blinked several times, but no tears came. Harry silently admired her courage and smiled warmly as she gazed over at him. Her eyes were deep blue pools of sorrow and pride, swirling together with the tragic truth she had finally come to know after spending half of her life wondering.

"I must compliment you on your work for this assignment," Hermione continued. "This is N.E.W.T. level writing Miss Vance. Your research is not only especially thorough it is also remarkably conclusive. You've done an excellent job of bringing your points together and forming your own conclusions, rather than simply regurgitating what you've read. I was telling your professor earlier that I especially liked the example you gave for a paradox loop. I've never really seen a finer illustration of that point. Very nicely done."

"Thank you," Emily beamed and smiled openly at Harry, who nodded his agreement.

"Normally, with something of this quality, I would strongly encourage you to submit it for publication. This would make a very interesting newspaper or magazine column, especially coming from someone so young." Hermione smiled admiringly as Emily's eyes lit up at the prospect of being published. "In this case however, I cannot allow that. I'm very sorry, but as you now know, that book you found is listed as top-secret. As a result, there are large portions of your essay that I am declaring to be classified information. I'm afraid I'll have to take the paper with me and it will be catalogued with the rest of the Ministry's secure documents. Your name will remain anonymous until you come of age, at which time your authorship of the document will be reinstated. Should it ever be declassified, you will regain full author's rights."

"Wow," Emily said breathlessly. "You're going to put my assignment in the Ministry's archives?"

"Yes. It really is quite an honor. Not many people your age get such a distinction. It's too bad you won't be able to tell anybody about it."

"Wow," Emily whispered again. "But Professor, you wanted us to present our assignments to the class next week. How can I…"

"We've worked that out, Miss Vance," said Harry, still beaming proudly. "You have done more than double effort on this assignment already. If you would like, you can be excused from the presentation portion of your grade."

"Or, there is another option," Hermione interjected, causing Harry to roll his eyes. "I can allow you some time to write a revised paper, excluding key points which I will list for you. If I can determine that no classified information exists you will be allowed to present and, if you wish, publish the revised paper."

"That sounds great! I can have it for you by tomorrow."

"I had a feeling you would say that." Hermione smiled broadly at the eager look on Emily's face as she handed her homework over the desk. Harry shook his head but smiled too, admiring both of them for their insistence on studying harder than is necessary.

"Well ladies. I hate to break this up, but dinner will be over soon," Harry said, checking his watch.

"Oh, that's okay Professor. I'm not really hungry," Emily said, carefully storing her assignment in her bag, wary of making any wrinkles and creases now that she knew it was going to be archived in the Ministry's library.

"Yes you are," Harry said, peering over his glasses at her. "I may not be able to stop you from revising further, but I must insist that you get a good dinner before hitting the books."

"I suppose you're right," Emily sighed in defeat. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley. It's been great talking with you, and thank you for your help with… well, you know… about my parents."

"You are very welcome Miss Vance. I'll call again this time tomorrow to review your work."

"Thanks. Bye," Emily called as Harry closed the door behind her.

"You've done an excellent job Harry. She's a remarkable student."

"I can hardly take credit. She was like this when I got here," Harry said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Still, I sense that she's opened up a bit, and recently." Hermione stood and followed Harry back over to the window, gazing out over his shoulder. "Professor McGonagall said she's been much more outgoing this year. She also told me she thinks it's because you've been counseling her," Hermione added with a smile of admiration.

"I wouldn't really call it counseling, except maybe last weekend," Harry said thoughtfully, studying the horizon. "We usually just talk about this and that. Ginny thinks she relates to me because I lost my parents too."

"That could very well be it. Most people can't even comprehend what that feels like, myself included." Hermione paused as they stood there at the window, looking out over the shadows of the grounds. They could just see the leaves of the forest rustling in the distant breeze as the moon took watch over the night sky, the sun retreating rapidly over the horizon. "Well, I should get going."

"Can you stay for dinner? I'm sure there will be plenty of food and Ginny would love to see you."

"Well, it's Ronald's night to cook…" Hermione said with pursed lips.

"Oh," Harry said darkly. "He probably wouldn't like it if you skipped out on him."

"Are you kidding?" Hermione laughed. "He'd love it. This will just be an excuse for him to eat junk. I'll just floo him and tell him our plans."

"Sure, let's use the fireplace upstairs. It's already lit."

* * *

"Well, it looks like it's going to be between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor for the cup this year." Harry took his seat at the staff table between Professors McGonagall and Longbottom. "Your team's put together quite an impressive side this year Neville. You might give us a run for our money come February."

"You'd better believe it," Neville said jovially. "Did you see that catch Jessica made? It could rival some of your better moves Harry."

"How could I miss it?" Harry said with a shudder. "She practically blew me out of the air going after it. One second the snitch comes inches from flying up my nose, the next I'm whirling around and all I see is this big mass of yellow coming right for me. I haven't had a close call like that since our second year, and that landed me in the hospital wing overnight."

"That wasn't so much a close call as a disaster," Professor McGonagall threw in. "You should have seen your face when Gilderoy tried to fix your arm. Still, I suppose he did get what was coming to him after all."

"Bloody good thing too," said Neville.

"No kidding," Harry said, nodding. "Who knows how many other people he'd have taken advantage of if Ron and I hadn't stopped him?"

The teachers continued talking animatedly about the morning's quidditch match for the rest of Saturday lunch. The students below them were in equally light-hearted spirits. There was a bit of mild tension between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as they came to the realization that they were now the top contenders for this year's Quidditch Cup. Each having seen the other play, they knew it was still either house's game.

All the same, the game had affected it's usual magic, and the entire school was enjoying a well-earned day off. That afternoon, several students were witness to a frigid, but altogether happy-looking Hagrid bursting into the entrance hall and brushing snow merrily from his shoulders. Within minutes half of the school was outside, catching snowflakes in their open mouths, and praying that it would stick in time for a good Sunday snowball fight. All of a sudden Christmas seemed a lot closer.

And indeed it was. Soon the Great Hall was filled with shimmering trees, decorated in silver and blue Christmas baubles with matching garland streaming hither and yon. The grey sky had obliged them with a large helping of snow and the students now discovered an entirely new distraction with witch they could torment their teachers. Harry had tried to take everything in stride. He didn't want to ruin everybody's mood by grousing around simply because his students' attention spans were less than exemplary; something he worried wasn't as true with the other teachers. Peeves, with all of his disruptions and annoyances, was enjoying the festivities immensely as usual. He had even taken to helping the staff decorate one evening.

"Peeves! For the last time, do not hang mistletoe over the door to the Great Hall," Professor McGonagall bellowed as a traffic jam of blushing students blocked the entrance for the third time that day. "Come here." She directed the poltergeist around a corner and into a dark corridor as several curious students watched in hopes of seeing a good scolding; glad it wasn't them on the receiving end. "It works much better over here Peeves. This corner is a bit more private, don't you think?" Peeves cackled happily as he pinned a large bundle of mistletoe to the ceiling and zoomed off, singing his own unique version of _Deck the Halls_. "Now I trust you love birds will take note, and stop clumping up in the Entrance Hall," Professor McGonagall said sternly to the stunned group of students that had been eavesdropping behind her before marching past them and sharing a subtle grin and wink with Harry on her way up the stairs.

* * *

"Harry, are you sure you have to go? It's a virtual blizzard out there."

"Yes Ginny. I have to see the students onto the train. Normally they'd be fine on their own but, as you said, there is a blizzard on."

"Well, hurry back," Ginny said deeply, nuzzling his neck and tugging gently on his ear.

"Yes ma'am," Harry responded with enthusiasm, kissing her as he fastened his heavy winter cloak over a thick, woolen scarf.

Ginny couldn't help laughing when he returned, pink in the face and still covered in snow. "It's not funny, I'm freezing," Harry said, looking quite awkward as he carefully peeled away his wet cloak.

"Go into the sitting room," Ginny called from the kitchen. "I'll be back in a minute."

Harry was pleased to find a roaring fire in the grate and a fresh pair of thick socks sitting on his favorite chair. After hanging his cloak by the fire and warming his hands over the hearth, he sat to change out of his sopping shoes. He was just thinking about running into the bedroom for a warmer shirt when he spotted a fluffy, hand-knitted jumper sitting on the corner of the couch. It was different than the ones he was used to. This one had light blue woven together with the usual emerald green. On the front was a large _H_ and, superimposed beneath it, an interlinking _G_ as well.

"Don't tell me you've taken up the tradition of making Weasley jumpers," Harry said, slipping it over his head as Ginny entered the room with a pair of steaming mugs.

"No, I've never been very good with that sort of thing. Mum sent these up early when she heard how awful the weather's been." Harry hadn't noticed until now that Ginny was wearing a similar one, this time with the G in front of the H. "Here, drink this."

"Okay," Harry said obediently as she handed him a cup of steaming hot chocolate. "Wow, this is great," Harry said enthusiastically as he set the cup down and licked his lips ravenously, feeling instantly warm all over. He moved over and sat next to Ginny on the couch. "You spoil me you know. You always seem to know exactly what I need: the fire, the socks, the sweater, the hot chocolate. I should marry you."

"You already did. About a year ago actually," she said, consulting her watch and staring expectantly at him. Harry looked at her suspiciously. His eyes twitched back and forth as though he was thinking very quickly.

"Hang on, what's today's date?"

"Oh I knew it!" Ginny bellowed, sitting up and crossing her arms. "I knew you'd forget. I…"

"Hold on," Harry said, grinning and trying to take her hand. "I was just checking, you know, to make sure." Ginny rolled her eyes and made a very skeptical sounding noise with her tongue. "Come on Ginny. You know I've been busy. I've had a lot going what with grading homework and keeping up with everything. On top of all of that, I had to make time to go pick this up from Hogsmeade." He walked toward the fire and pulled a thin package out of the pocket of his cloak. "I was going to wait but…" Harry made a great show out of consulting his own watch, "…seeing as it's only a few hours away, I suppose you can open it now."

Ginny eyed the package doubtfully, glancing up at the steely look of determination and amusement in Harry's green eyes. Shaking her head she took the package with a great sigh. "Why do you do things like that?"

"To see your reaction," Harry responded casually as he sat back down. "I figure if people learn best from their own mistakes, I can skip over the hard part if I only _pretend_ to screw up. Then I get to see what you'll do, and you won't actually be mad at me."

"What makes you think I'm not mad at you?" Ginny said with a raised eyebrow as she examined the box.

"Here, I'll show you." Without warning he leaned in and kissed her deeply. Her eyes instantly grew in surprise but slowly narrowed as they embraced. As they broke apart, Ginny sighed again, this time with a mixture of contentment and defeat. "Happy Anniversary my love," Harry whispered.

"Okay, you win."

"Good. Now, I think you have a present to open."

"Oh no. No instant gratification for you. You get to open yours first." Without waiting to hear his protest, Ginny ran down the hallway and returned with a very long, rectangular box.

"What on earth is this?" Harry asked as she laid it across both of their laps.

"You're supposed to open it."

"Really? What, no hints?" Harry said as he tugged at the ribbon that was wrapped around the center of the box.

"No flyboy. Now open it."

"Flyboy? You haven't called me that in ages," Harry said with a curious smile.

"Whatever, just open it already," Ginny said urgently.

Harry tipped the lid of the box onto the floor. "You got me a box of tissue paper?"

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Ginny groaned, shoving his hand inside. "There, feel that? Does that feel like tissue paper?"

"No it feels like…" Harry stopped smiling and screwed up his face in concentration. He thought he smelled something familiar. Slowly a long wooden handle emerged from the box. "…a broomstick?"

"Look closer."

"A _Nimbus 2000_? But…"

"Closer."

Harry examined the broom carefully. Slowly he realized that this was not a new broom at all. In fact, it was so old that it seemed chipped and marred in several places. He felt along the handle and pulled his head down close to examine the surface. Now he could see tiny fractures running about along its length. Slowly, a profound memory overtook him. He was sitting in the hospital wing. The mud-splattered Gryffindor team stood all around him. And in his lap were the shattered pieces of his old broomstick.

"Ginny… Is this?" She nodded, beaming at him. "But how did you…? Where did you…?"

"Dobby found it for me. I wondered where it might have ended up so he said he'd find out. Turns out it ended up in the Room of Requirement. The house-elves have a place they keep old, broken-down magical artifacts instead of throwing them away. He found it and brought me the pieces so I could glue them back together and refinish it. I'm afraid it will never fly again, but I thought you'd like to have it as a keepsake."

"I'll say!" Harry responded enthusiastically, picking up the broom and looking it over from end to end. "Ginny this is amazing. This must have taken you days… weeks."

"It was worth it. You should see your face. You look completely bowled over, just like you did when I first met you."

Ginny sipped lightly from her cup as Harry continued to marvel at the old broom for several minutes.

"Thank you," Harry said breathlessly, setting the broom carefully back in the box. "Really Ginny, I don't know what to say."

"Yes you do."

"I love you?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That will do fine." Ginny leaned over and kissed him as he resumed his position on the couch. "Okay, my turn."

Ginny carefully pulled open the wrapping and peeked inside. Harry sat patiently, watching her with amusement. She pulled the paper apart to reveal the backside of a picture frame. She looked over at Harry curiously. Harry simply smiled and nodded toward the frame. As she turned it over her face contorted into so many shapes, Harry was sure it must have been very painful.

"Harry, is this what I think it is? Yes… It would have to be… There was no other time… And certainly not with all those people around… I didn't even know there was a picture. Who other than Colin would have…?"

"It _was_ Colin. Apparently he missed one when he met you over the summer. He brought it by a few weeks ago."

"Well that little devil," Ginny said in indignation. "He had some nerve, taking a picture of our first kiss. Why isn't it moving?"

"I asked him to leave it as a still. The timing couldn't have been better and I wanted to save the memory just like that. Did you see the inscription?"

"Oh, no I didn't. What's this?" Ginny squinted and tilted the picture trying to get better light. "Oh Harry, you're so sweet. I would have waited forever for you." She leaned over and pressed him down into the cushion with a passionate reenactment of the scene in the picture (absent the shocked stares of the people surrounding them).

"Now…" Harry said breathlessly as they broke apart, "If you would have figured out how to do that sooner, you wouldn't have had to wait as long.

"If I had tried that any sooner, I'd have scared you away and never gotten my hands on you." Before Harry could reply she smothered him with another spine tingling kiss. It was only the sudden popping sound from the fireplace that brought them back to reality, gasping for breath.

"Hermione! What are you…? How are you?" Ginny stammered, straightening her jumper and fussing with her hair.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Hermione looked mortified. "I didn't mean to… I should try again later. I'll just go."

"Don't worry about it Hermione," said Harry with a slight blush, running his fingers through his perpetually untidy hair. "What did you need?"

"No, no. It can wait. I should have realized, with it being your anniversary…"

"Spill it Hermione," Harry said, walking closer to the fire. "You're already here. Why don't you come on over. Ginny made the most fantastic hot chocolate. Have Ron come too."

"If you're sure."

"Of course. This way we can show off our presents," Harry said, beaming.

"All right, we'll be right in. That's what I wanted to talk about actually."

A few moments later Hermione and Ron had joined Harry and Ginny for a round of hot chocolate in the kitchen. Ron was busily examining the broom and complimenting Ginny on the handiwork while Hermione examined every inch of the picture. Beaming, she gave Harry an approving nod.

"Hey, how did you get your jumpers already? Christmas isn't 'till next week." Ron said incredulously.

"Have you looked outside?" Harry pointed to the kitchen window.

"Oh. Right. That makes sense," Ron said, nodding sympathetically.

"So what was it you needed to talk about?" Ginny finally brought the conversation around.

"Oh yes," Hermione said eagerly. "Ron and I haven't been able to properly thank you for the house. We decided it would be great if you would like to come down and stay for the week and get away for your anniversary. We'll take care of everything, the cooking, the cleaning, and you can have the house to yourselves; we'll be staying over at the Burrow. I know it's been pretty hard for you to get time alone without interruptions, and you should get as much of that while you still can." Hermione looked sympathetically over at Ginny.

"That's a really wonderful offer, but I don't think I can get away for that long," Harry said, looking back and forth between Hermione and Ron. "There are a few students staying for the Holidays and—"

"Don't worry about that Harry. I've already talked it over with Minerva. She says there aren't very many and they can manage without you for a week. Come down and enjoy the house. It's really quite peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of the castle, even with most of the students gone. You never know what might happen here. There, we can make sure you're left alone."

"What do you say?" Harry looked over at Ginny.

"It sounds great to me," Ginny responded enthusiastically.

"Good," said Ron. "Everything's ready. We'll just go ahead and get dinner started and you can floo over whenever you're ready."

"Are you sure it's no trouble?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"None at all. It's really the least we can do." With that, Hermione ushered Ron from the kitchen and headed for the fire. "Thank you so much for the chocolate. You'll have to give me the recipe sometime."

"Actually, I can't. It won't work if _I_ give it to you. It has to be passed down through the family. It should work if Ron gets it from mum."

"Oh, that's fine then. We can make it for you while you're staying. Hurry along now and get packed. We'll have everything ready when you get there."  
After a glorious candlelit dinner for two, Ron and Hermione bade them good night and retreated quietly from the house.

"They really are sweet," Ginny sighed, leaning against Harry as they waved through the window.

"Yeah," Harry said lazily "Almost as sweet as you."

"Now," said Ginny, taking Harry's hand. "Where were we?" 


	14. Chapter 13: Every Five Years

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 13: Every Five Years  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry makes a bold proposal for a new class to help prepare the older students for their N.E.W.T.s—and something else. The most important Quidditch match of the year pairs Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in a daylong thriller.

* * *

"Is it really next year?"

"Every five years."

"Goodness, I'd nearly forgotten," Professor McGonagall said skeptically as she spooned porridge into a bowl. "Still, it is a bit early to be getting all worked up, don't you think?"

"Not really Minerva," Harry responded, passing her the treacle. "The other schools are still a bit sore about the circumstances around the time before last. They're going to be getting ready. Dumbledore may have turned a blind eye, but you must have seen how much they'll do to win. I know for a fact that security has already been tightened around the preparations." Harry lowered his voice and leaned in as he buttered his toast. "Hermione's told me she was instructed to assign a small squad of Aurors to monitor the project from our end, to assure complete secrecy. It could be nothing, but I'd be very surprised if there weren't a specific reason they did it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" McGonagall glared severely at him in a way he had hardly seen since being her student.

"It means, I think someone's taken the cheating to a new level, trying to find out the tasks before the tournament even starts." He was whispering now. "If that's true, then you can be pretty sure they plan to train way in advance."

"Are you suggesting we infiltrate the Ministry?"

"No!" Harry's shocked response roused the attention of a few nearby students. Lowering his voice again, he continued. "I'm sorry, you misunderstood me. I was merely proposing that, since the other schools could very well be preparing their candidates ahead of time, why not do the same. It's not as if the skills won't be useful."

"What do you propose?" she asked politely. Harry got the impression she was simply hearing him out as a courtesy.

"We could establish a training course… maybe twice a month." Harry was waving his hands around dramatically as he spoke. McGonagall eyed his fork cautiously as it hovered dangerously close to Neville's arm. "Just something basic that would cover the most helpful skills. Dennis is a nice enough guy, but seriously, last time was simply embarrassing. Our candidates need to be ready."

"Surely you can't be considering this, Minerva?" Harry jumped slightly as Snape leaned in and whispered acidly between their heads, having overheard Harry's idea while walking to his seat.

"But Severus, you're as competitive as any of us," Harry interjected, thinking of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin and the aftermath, during which Snape succeeded in avoiding Harry for two solid weeks. "Surely you'd like to see a better showing this year."

"A win would certainly be gratifying," Snape replied stiffly. "However, I feel that our students have quite enough to do without spending time on additional studies." The headmistress considered Snape's comments thoughtfully but remained respectfully silent, her face utterly unreadable. "Furthermore," he continued, "going through with this proposal would unquestionably bring unwanted distraction among the _entire_ student body, not just the candidates. Surely you, Minerva, can appreciate that problem in ways a first year teacher could not," Snape sneered.

"Minerva listen," Harry butted in as soon as the perception of politeness would allow. After such a long history with the man, Harry had learned life was much easier when he simply ignored Snape's derision–simultaneously denying him the satisfaction and infuriating him in equal measure. "Most of the eligible students will be preparing for their N.E.W.T.s next year, right?"

"All the more reason not to distract them," Snape added triumphantly.

"The way I see it," Harry continued without hesitation, "this training would be good for them in several ways. First, the extra knowledge and practice will easily improve their skills for several of the more difficult subjects. Second, doing the training _now_ will help alleviate the pressure to prepare during the tournament, which will allow them more time _then_ to revise for the exams. On top of all that—"

"I think it's a great idea," McGonagall interrupted before Harry could move on to his next point.

"You… you do?" Harry choked.

"You do?" Snape said incredulously.

"Yes," the Headmistress replied firmly. "When do you start?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on Harry." Professor McGonagall lowered her head and glared over her glasses at him with amusement in her eyes. "Who better to train them than you? For goodness sake, you _were_ a Tri-Wizard Champion. You've _been_ there, in the thick of it. You know twice what any of us would." At this, Snape gave one last contemptuous cough and slithered down to his seat.

"Well, Professor, I can see your point," Harry twirled his fork absently, staring up at the murky ceiling. "But I also think it would be a good time for those students to develop a stronger relationship with you. That will make the transition much easier when they have to be away from Hogwarts for so long."

McGonagall breathed out suddenly and looked down at her food in thought. Her eyes became fixed and resolute. "That is an excellent point." She paused again, gazing out at the students below them. She opened her mouth several times to speak, only to close it again in a kind of perplexed indecision. Finally, on the fourth try, she seemed to have fully constructed her thoughts. "You'll know best how to organize the training. Please prepare a course outline starting in February and extending through the week before exams. Also, you should include further lessons and review for September and October. If we're going to make this effort, we may as well do it right. I'll make my final decision after I've reviewed your plan."

"Thank you Minerva. I'll get to work on it first thing tonight. Well…" Harry said breathlessly as he stood up, "…I'd better get going. I have to set up the Grindylow for my third-years."

* * *

The roar was deafening as fifteen blurs of color zoomed excitedly onto the pitch. Harry took his place in the center of the stadium and gazed out at the excited crowd surrounding him. Red and yellow clad players flew to their positions with wide, sweeping formations that were executed with as much precision as any strategic move used in the game. The entire school knew that this was likely to be the most important match of the year, and each team was putting on its best show of house pride for the mass of students below them. Only these things could have gotten them all out on what was possibly the coldest morning of the year so far. The cloudless, blue air around them sparkled with a crystal clearness that, despite its beauty, could never be confused for a warm, summer sky.

Ravenclaw and Slytherin were hopelessly far behind in points even with the fact that both teams had each already played their second game of the year the previous month–a grueling, day-long affair that ended with one of the lowest scores of any game ever to last more than eight hours. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams, knowing it was essentially down to them, had worked tirelessly since returning from the Christmas holiday, and Harry had rarely seen two better-organized squads since watching the World Cup when he was 14. Despite his own suppressed favoritism for Gryffindor house, Harry was quite excited to officiate the match, no matter the outcome.

He noticed a friendly wave from an equally excited Neville as the players took their final positions. "Captains, shake hands," Harry bellowed over the din. He released the snitch and bludgers as Otis and his Hufflepuff counterpart resumed their respective positions. And with a great whoop from the crowd, he signaled the beginning of the match by tossing the Quaffle high into the air.

It was apparent immediately which skills and techniques the two teams seemed to have neglected. Without any serious competition in their previous matches, the defensive strategies of both teams were decidedly inadequate. All indications showed that it would be an offensive shootout. Indeed, within the first thirty minutes the score was already 280 to 270 as the teams zoomed back and forth, exchanging the lead so often, nobody could count.

"It's Ellington with the Quaffle again," boomed the enthusiastic voice of Eric Simmons. "He passes smoothly to Walker who barely touches it before sending it over to Parkin. Ellington again, and what a nice _Sloth Grip Roll_ that was! He's coming up quickly into scoring range now and… no good. Close save by Hufflepuff Keeper Zeller, who turns the Quaffle over to… no wait, very interesting fake out there… and now it's over to Jones and he's off like a bolt.

"He's really moving now! I don't know if the Gryffindor chasers can catch him, they're scattered all over the field," Eric said incredulously, looking around frantically at his team, wondering how they could suddenly be nowhere near the action as Jones zoomed up the pitch. "Parkin is headed his way, and he's going to have to take Jones on alone unless… Would you look at that!" Harry was just as shocked as Eric was, and the entire crowd gave a collective gasp as chasers Frank Ellington and Lauren Walker, who had previously seemed completely out of play, simultaneously veered inward to the center of the pitch from opposite sides. The Hufflepuff chaser had been well out ahead of his teammates and was completely defenseless when, all at once, three chasers converged on his position from three completely different directions. He might have been able to escape had it not been for two precisely timed bludgers, one from above, and the other from below, that were sent pelting after him at exactly the same moment.

"That's got to hurt," Eric groaned. "With a unique twist on the rare, but very effective, _Parkin's Pincer_, the Gryffindor team takes the Quaffle again. That's teamwork like I've never seen before: five players in perfect synchronization from opposite ends of the pitch. Truly outstanding!"

The magnificence of the move would become especially memorable as it also instigated the turning point of the game. Gryffindor went on a ten goal run, leaving the fans screaming themselves hoarse. The Hufflepuff players fought back valiantly, but Gryffindor continued to increase their lead over the next hour. By mid-afternoon, the score was 920 to 750. With Gryffindor more than a snitch-catch away, the Hufflepuff players were beginning to panic and the students in the stands hardly touched their seats–except perhaps to stand on them.

"What's that? White's seen the Snitch!" roared Eric as a blur of red robes raced across the pitch. "Yes I do believe this could all be over folks as Gryffindor Seeker Clarence White has a clear advantage in the chase. Hufflepuff Seeker Smith is racing after him, but can he get there?" For a brief second, even the other players looked down at the red and yellow streaks that were rocketing along the floor of the pitch. "They're neck and neck now. That Gabe Smith has got some serious speed. What's that he doing now?"

Harry had the best view of what happened next. Clarence could obviously sense his opponent gaining on him and glanced back quickly to gauge his distance. All at once, Smith's eyes widened and he zoomed off to the right. Without bothering to fully turn around, Clarence did the same, trying desperately to hold onto his lead. But when he looked up again, the snitch was nowhere to be found.

"That was a serious gamble on the part of Gabriel Smith," Eric explained to the crowd, "but his trick worked. By pretending to see the snitch shoot off to the right, he fooled the Gryffindor Seeker into letting it get away. And so the game goes on. It's Walker with the Quaffle…" Harry made a mental note to congratulate Gabriel when the game was over. This boy had the makings of a great professional Seeker, having demonstrated so early the ability to manipulate his opponent, one of the best of the very few defensive strategies a Seeker has.

As the match stretched into its fifth hour, people began to grow weary as Gabriel continually fought Clarence away from the snitch, desperately holding the Gryffindor Seeker off until Hufflepuff was back within winning range. Nobody had expected another game to go long and each team seemed to have exhausted its supply of trick plays. When the team captains called for a brief time-out shortly after five o'clock, Gryffindor's lead was 1140 to 1000.

"If this goes on much longer, you two might have to consider calling and end to the match," Harry suggested to the captains as they returned from their conferences.

"Professor, are you crazy?" Otis looked scandalized. "I've never had more fun in my life. You don't want to quit, do you Jones?"

"N… no, of course not," the Hufflepuff captain grimaced, rubbing the sore spots where the bludgers had tackled him earlier. "Smith is liable to catch that snitch any time now, and in case you hadn't noticed, Crawford, we'd win," he said with more conviction as he pointed snidely at the scoreboard. "Can we get on with it now?" With an icy blast from his whistle, Harry restarted the match.

"And we're off again," Eric continued croakily. "Ellington passes to Parkin, Parkin to Walker. Walker with the Quaffle and they're heading up the pitch. It's the famous _Hawkshead Attack_! Here come the Hufflepuff Chasers to… Good lord, there goes Smith again after the snitch! He's got a significant lead on White this time." Eric had to yell to be heard over the crowd. "With Gryffindor only 140 points up, if Smith catches the snitch, Hufflepuff wins. He's nearly to it now…" The ground vibrated from the combined stamping of ecstatic Hufflepuff fans and terrified Gryffindor ones. As the Hufflepuff Seeker got closer and closer to the snitch, an echoing smack resounded from the center of the pitch.

"And Smith's got the snitch!" Eric bellowed as cheers rose up from the stands. "Wait! What's this?" Eric said in shock as, at the same time, the Quaffle sailed from halfway across the field, right between the Hufflepuff keeper's hands and through the center hoop. "It's a shot from the middle of the pitch! If I'm not mistaken…" Eric paused, staring down at Harry for some indication of what to say. For the first time in six hours, silence swept over the Hogwarts grounds. "And we're waiting on a signal from the Referee. Yes? Yes he is indicating the goal is good. That means the score is 1150 to 1150. Tie game! Unbelievable." Stunned murmurs were breaking out all over. "Hold on, we're getting another signal. There's a foul on the play." A collective groan emanated from the stands. "Yes it's a penalty shot for Gryffindor." Instantly the Hufflepuff side of the stands erupted in screams. Both teams descended upon Harry, the Hufflepuff players pointing and yelling this way and that.

"A foul for what, on who?" roared the Hufflepuff captain.

"Blatching, Mr. Jones, and the fowl is on you, so it would be wise of you to lower your voice… right now!" Harry responded in a soft but icy tone.

"But Professor, that goal shouldn't even count," pleaded one of the Hufflepuff beaters. "They didn't even throw it."

"I am aware of that," Harry said firmly. The other players stared at him incredulously. "Miss Walker dropped the Quaffle when you collided with her—Mr. Jones—which was not her fault. It seems the Quaffle then fell into the path of a very errant beater's bat—Mr. Spencer." Harry rounded on the other Hufflepuff beater. "There was no bludger near you," Harry said darkly. "What exactly were you aiming for?"

"I uh…" The boy quailed under Harry's accusatory stare. With so many witnesses, he would have been stupid to lie.

"Nevertheless, be glad you didn't hit what you were aiming for or we'd be dealing with two fouls. Now, as far as the validity of the score is concerned, you knocked the Quaffle into your own goal, so it is your own fault and the score counts." The Hufflepuff team's faces suddenly looked pale and withdrawn as the reality of the situation sank in. The Gryffindor players eyed each other in silent victory. "Mr. Crawford, whom would you like to take the penalty?" Otis looked over at Lauren and raised his eyebrows as he gave a somewhat mysterious flick of the wrist, which Harry decided must have been some sort of signal. She nodded and looked up at Harry expectantly. "Very well. Miss Walker, Mr. Zeller," Harry said as he put the Quaffle under his arm and mounted his broom, "if you would assume your positions for the penalty. You get one shot Miss Walker. Score or not, the game will be over."

As the two players took their positions, Harry flew over to the announcer's stand and explained the situation to Eric, who quickly relayed it to the dumbfounded crowd. The sea of students behind the Hufflepuff goal was mutinous as Lauren rose to the center of the pitch. "Watch this," Otis nudged Harry. They both gazed proudly up at the nervous, but determined Lauren Walker as Harry blew his whistle and she started down the pitch.

All eyes were on Lauren as she zoomed back and forth. Faster and faster she was gaining on the goal and never looking away from the keeper's eyes. Just as she neared the scoring area, she pulled back suddenly on her broom and stopped dead. The screams of the crowd were ear splitting, but for every one of the fifteen people on the field, the intensity of the situation blocked it out entirely. With a cheeky smirk, Lauren raised her eyebrows at the confused Hufflepuff just feet away from her, and without warning she swept her arm back for a massive throw.

There was a yellow blur as the keeper lunged for the for the far right goal hoop. He closed his hands triumphantly… around nothing but thin air. As his momentum carried him past the hoop, he looked back in horror as the bullet of a quaffle Lauren was throwing, rolled lightly off the tips of her fingers and floated, much slower than he had expected, down through the hoop.

* * *

"Silencio," Harry mumbled several hours later. His arm was the only thing visible as it reached out from between the bedcovers to flick his wand in the general direction of Gryffindor tower. After a few protracted moments of silence Ginny stirred next to him and peeked out from underneath the comforter.

"Did you just…?"

"Yeah. Go back to sleep," Harry whispered drowsily.

"You're not going to shut them up?"

"I just did," Harry said with a satisfied smirk.

"You know what I mean," Ginny responded, glaring at him.

"Do you think it would actually work if I tried?" Harry laughed. "After a game like that, I'll be lucky to get them into bed by _tomorrow_ night."

"So you're just going to let them carry on 'till morning?"

"Let 'em have their fun. They're going to anyway. This way we get a lot more sleep."

"Can't argue with that," Ginny replied, reaching up briefly to kiss him. Shivering, she snuggled up to Harry's chest, pulling the warm covers tightly around them.

"Your feet are cold."

* * *

"Mr. Meeks, why don't you pair up with Mr. Gaston here." Harry guided a nervous and uncertain Edward Meeks by the shoulders so he was standing in front of the equally skeptical scowl of Carl Gaston.

"But Professor," called the penetrating voice of Lauren Walker, still beaming with confidence from the aura of heroism that had surrounded her since her game-winning goal the previous week, "I'm more Eddie's size. It's not really fair—"

"I realize it's not fair," Harry interrupted her with a glare of warning. "There is a method to my madness Miss Walker, however much my history might suggest to you that I have no idea what I am doing." Lauren blinked several times quickly before quailing under Harry's stony expression.

"Sorry," was all she could muster as she walked away and leaned against the wall in a silent pout.

"Thank you Miss Walker. She brings up an excellent point," Harry raised his voice to the gathering of sixteen and seventeen year old students strewn about the defense classroom. "You are surely wondering, Mr. Meeks," Harry turned back to the two boys he had just paired, "why I would choose for you to match up against a student who is much bigger and more experienced than you. Surely it would be fairer to pair you with, say, Mr. Hunter over here. After all, you are the only two fifth-years taking this course." Harry paused and looked around the room. "Come now. Can't anyone think of a reason I would make such a mismatch?" Silence enveloped them as Harry drew out the awkwardness of the moment.

Suddenly, and without warning, Harry directed his wand at the other end of the room and bellowed, "ARACNIORTIA." Several students screamed and bolted across the room when a resounding "CRACK" echoed from behind them. Turning, they saw a ten-foot high Acromantula, clicking its pincers ominously and threatening to pounce on them at any moment. "Alright, who wants a go?" Harry asked enthusiastically as the terrified group of students huddled behind him. He held the gigantic spider in place with his wand, an amused grin spreading wide across his face. "Nobody?" he teased, walking around and looking from face to face. "Surely there's someone in here worthy of the honor of being Hogwarts' Tri-Wizard Champion." He stopped in front of Edward, who looked up at him with a confused mixture of hesitation and something Harry thought he recognized as curiosity. "Come on, this spider isn't going to simply vanish into thin air of its own accord," Harry called out to the room, still staring down at Edward.

After examining Harry's penetrating gaze, Edward's eyes lit up in realization and he raised his wand confidently, yelling, "Evanesco!" The room was silent again as the giant beast disappeared with a pop. There was a sudden, protracted silence as everyone stared at Edward, who stood stock-still, holding his wand out and looking as though he had no idea what had happened.

"Tell me," Harry said to the room at large, "what painfully obvious fact did Mr. Meeks here figure out that the rest of you did not?" Harry paused and watched the sea of non-committal faces surrounding him. "Surely you must know, Mr. Gaston. I know for a fact you've checked out _The Art of Conjuring_ at least a dozen times." Harry rounded on the tall, brown-haired boy he had first met in the hospital wing more than a year before. Carl's sixth year had been good to him, as he had grown several inches and filled out nicely from the scrawny frame he had carried around before. Slowly, he nodded. "Go ahead," Harry said with a sweeping gesture of his arm.

"The spider was conjured, meaning it wasn't real. So of course, because it wasn't an actual animal, he could vanish it just as easily as you made it appear."

"Technically correct. I will offer one clarification, however." Harry cleared his throat importantly. "The conjuring of any creature is never easy, and one so large is even more difficult. Causing something to vanish is generally accepted to be almost exactly as difficult as conjuring it would have been. So, when you say 'he could vanish it just as easily' you are correct in that, it was just as hard for him as it was for me. Nicely done Mr. Meeks. You showed us there the kind of conviction that is needed to fulfill the role of Champion."

Edward blinked several times and looked up at Harry, who gave him an admiring tilt of the head and a smile. Slowly he sighed and lowered his wand, unable to contain the great grin of satisfaction that was spreading over his face.

"The point I was trying to make, however, was that this tournament is not about fairness." Harry strolled around the room as he spoke. "Of course, the difficulty of the tournament is as even-handed and as fair as we can make it, but winning this tournament won't be about matching up for duels of harmless spells against your fellow classmates. I chose to match Mr. Meeks against Mr. Gaston, not to see if his spells can overcome the power of his opponent–which of course he should be trying for–but simply to stretch the strength of his magic as much as possible. This class is not going to be about beating your partner. You are here to learn how to refine your magical power, skills, and knowledge in preparation for the much bigger challenges that lay ahead for whichever of you is selected Champion. That spider was a small sample of the many things I faced when I participated in this tournament nine years ago.

"Now, let's pair up and start practicing. We won't be taking on spiders and snakes just yet. That's something we'll work up to. We'll start today with the disarming charm." A groan swept throughout the room. "Hey now. This spell is nothing to sneer at. It has literally saved my life on more than one occasion." Harry glared out at their stunned faces and paused, allowing the silence to make his point for him before continuing. "While your partner is attempting to disarm you, you will be learning to resist the charm. That skill is the most basic form of the type of strength it takes to overcome all kinds of magic, right down to the Unforgivable Imperius Curse," he finished darkly, staring out at their awestruck faces. "Master that kind of skill and you'll have some powerful advantages for the tasks ahead of you."

For the rest of the afternoon, the small collection of students practiced eagerly, filling the room with bangs and whistles that reminded Harry of the sounds he would hear years ago from Fred and George's room back at The Burrow. By the end of the four-hour session, they had moved on to some of the more advanced hexes and counter-curses. Professor McGonagall joined them partway through and observed the class with great interest as Harry bounced from group to group, sometimes pairing himself off with a student who needed more of a challenge.

"Your homework…" Harry paused for the disappointed groans, "Your homework, between now and next time, will be to get together with the fourth-years from your house at least twice and tutor them on their defensive spells." The room went silent yet again as they stared back at him with looks of mixed disgust and confusion. "They are working on some of the most important defensive spells you'll ever need to know. Sometimes teaching someone else how to do something is the best way to practice. I'll see you in two weeks."

"Very clever Professor," Minerva offered as the students filed out of the room. "Killing two Doxies with one stone I see."

"Manipulation in its highest form my dear Headmistress," Harry chuckled under his breath.

"This is quite a program you've put together here."

"Thank you," Harry replied as he closed the door behind a grumbling fifth-year Ravenclaw. "These really are the best and brightest of the eligible students. I pushed them really hard on that first session two weeks ago. About half of them decided it wasn't for them, which of course is what I was going for."

"This is a serious bunch of students. If this goes as well as I think it will, we might finally break Headmaster Fortescue's record for the highest number of 'Outstanding' N.E.W.T.s." Professor McGonagall rubbed her hands together conspiratorially.

"And we'll have a great shot at the tournament," Harry added with equal enthusiasm.

"Harry…" Minerva paused, "Can we sit?"

"Of course." They walked together back into the D.A.D.A. Office. Harry cleared a stack of papers he had been grading from one of the chairs and pulled it over for her before taking the seat opposite her.

"I've noticed how well you get on with that group already," Minerva began somewhat timidly, "and not just in a sense that they like you."

"Um… Thank you," Harry repeated, unsure of what she was trying to say.

"You've really done great work earning their respect not only for your authority, but for your experience and expertise as well. You're already teaching them really well and they seem to be getting along quite nicely as a group. That will be essential when they have to stay in such tight quarters during the tournament next year."

"I agree," Harry interjected when it seemed like he was supposed to say something.

"It is essential to their study–and to the success of the champion, I might add–that there are as few conflicts as possible. It is very stressful to be cooped up and away from home like that for seven months." She paused, wringing her hands and staring at the floor with uncharacteristic anxiety.

"Yes," Harry added to break up the silence.

"Harry I have thought long and hard about what I am about to say. I'm not sure if you have realized it yet, but you are going to have a much larger responsibility next year."

"Of course!" Harry kicked himself mentally for not having realized it. "If you're going to be gone most of the year at Durmstrang for the tournament… Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I am assuming you are asking me to act as temporary Headmaster while you are gone."

"Not exactly, no." Harry's eyes wandered the room in confusion. If she didn't want him to take over, whom would she get? He knew Snape was automatically disqualified. Most likely Flitwick still didn't want to take on the extra work. Neville was turning out to be a fine teacher, but Harry had to admit to himself that he couldn't really see him handling that much authority very willingly. "I'm considering the idea of staying here," Minerva's voice broke into his thoughts. Harry's eyes snapped back to attention and examined her stony features as she fixed him in a very serious stare.

"What do you mean Professor?"

"Harry," she emphasized his name to remind him to use hers, "I am not as young as I used to be."

"Minerva, I'm sure you are fully equal to the task. There's no need to talk like that."

"Let me finish." She held out her hand to silence him and fixed her eyes on a spot above his head. "I do not doubt that I could handle leading the students to the tournament. If I thought otherwise I would resign the Headmistress position entirely. What I mean to say is that I am too distant from the children. I have never had as strong a connection with them as the one you have made in just a short amount of time. From what I saw in the few minutes I observed today, I have confirmed my conclusion that you would be a much better choice to lead them to Durmstrang in the fall."

Harry stared down at the floor in disbelief, running his hands nervously through his unkempt hair. He'd never even considered what such a responsibility would be like. What would Ginny think? Would she be able to come along, or would he be able to get away to see her? "Professor, there's one problem," Harry said suddenly, his eyes shooting open in realization.

"You're going to have a three month old baby by the time the delegation leaves," she completed his thought for him.

"Yeah," Harry said breathlessly. The reality of his impending fatherhood was still sinking in on a daily basis.

"I have considered that complication. I realize it would be a huge sacrifice for you and Ginny to make."

"I'm sorry Minerva, but let me stop you right there. I just can't bring myself to leave them behind like that." Harry stood up and walked to the window, looking up at a small group of second floor windows across the courtyard.

"I could never ask you to Harry. Even if you were willing I would tell you not to. However, if you and Ginny find it agreeable, modifications can be made to the train to allow you extra living space and privacy on site. I know it is a lot to ask, being away for so long with a newborn. If you don't want to do it, I will understand. But please know that I will work for any arrangements you might need. Headmaster Ivanov is a very reasonable man and, from what I hear, a great fan of yours. I am sure he will be helpful in whatever extra accommodations might be needed: visitors, provisions, access to the floo network…"

Just as Harry had thought of each potential problem, Minerva seemed to read his mind, explaining away each one. He realized she had thought this through in great detail and was determined to make it work. He supposed she deserved at least a chance. "I can't say anything for sure. I don't know if I can do it, but even if I did agree, I couldn't possibly make this decision without Ginny."

"Naturally. That's why I am bringing it up so soon. We don't need to make a final decision until September, but I want to give you as much time as possible to discuss it," McGonagall said as she rose. "I would hope to talk it over with both of you and answer any queries you might have. I think, after we examine the situation together, we can come to an amicable arrangement." She paused, holding the door open. "Harry," she said tenderly, and finally he turned to look at her. "I don't want to sound like I'm pressuring you, but for what it's worth, this really would be the best situation for the students. Your work with them this year has been truly remarkable. I hope you understand how sure that makes me, that you will be an exceptional father." As those last words floated through the room, she closed the door silently behind her, and was gone. 


	15. Chapter 14: The Calming Effects of Tea

**Author's Note: **Greetings faithful readers! I know it's been quite a while since I've posted a new chapter and for this I apologize. The holidays and other things necessitated, for me, a bit of a break. During my hiatus I have given the story a complete overhaul: a bit of polish here, a little revision there. Most of the changes I have made are merely asthetic and don't really alter the story. Some rather extensive additions in certain chapters have, I think, vastly improved the overal descriptive atmosphere. A couple of details were clarified and extended (one example is near the end of chapter 2 with the dramatization of my own little revalation regarding the prophecy, one that I think may be a neat little loophole J. K. Rowling left open for herself). I have recently (during the last week of February) added these revisions to this site. Instantly noticable will be the header for each chapter, containing some basic details and a brief summary for each chapter. In light of this long absence of new chapters and considering the number of revisions, I recommend that anyone who has considered rereading the rest of the story would do so. In the least you might want to read each chapter summary to reestablish the timeline in your mind. For those who can't wait and prefer to plow ahead with the new chapter, a recap: In the last chapter, Harry put together a new course to prepare interested students for the next year'sTriwizard Tournament. In the meantime, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fought valiantly in the biggest Quidditch game of the year. Finally, Professor McGonagall asks Harry a question he hadn't anticipated regarding the Triwizard Tournament and the delegation that will travel to Durmstrang in October. If these clues aren't enough to remind you of what's been going on, I fear you will find yourself somewhat lost without reviewing the preceding chapters. You should note that this chapter begins out of context, meaning that it is not a direct continuation of the previous scene, though it looks as though it could be. The context will provide itself as the stage is set.

As always, Happy Reading!

Wig Pigeon

* * *

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 14: The Calming Effects of Tea  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Harry and Ginny discuss a very important decision with the family. Winter melts away and Hogwarts is thrust into the spring and the annual sprint to the end of the school year. Before anyone knows it, its time to prepare for O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, and the end of the year exams.

* * *

"She what?" 

"Mum, calm down."

"No I will not calm down. I'll march right over there and give that old bat a piece of my mind is what I'll do…"

Ginny and Harry watched hopelessly from the kitchen table as Arthur Weasley restrained his furious wife with all his might. "Molly dear, you're in no state to be going anywhere," he pleaded. "And you're not leaving without your cloak. Come now, sit down." He snapped his fingers automatically at George and before Harry could blink George whisked a cup of tea with a strong shot of Ogden's best Firewhiskey into Arthur's hand with such precision, Harry knew this was a well-practiced remedy.

"If she thinks my grandchild is going to…"

"Molly, please," Harry said in his calmest, yet most penetrating voice. "We came to discuss this with everyone. We haven't decided anything yet."

Mrs. Weasley was not used to Harry demanding so much as the time of day. She knew, whenever he did ask her for something, he meant it and it was important. Taking a few calming breaths, she drank hungrily from her cup. "Harry, you have gotten very good," she said as she took another gulp, "at masking your thoughts. Of course I take you at your word that you have not made up your mind. It's not you I worry about. As hard as she may try to hide it, a mother can always read her daughter's face. Isn't that right Ginevra?" Molly's voice rose as she looked suddenly over at Ginny.

Harry stared at Mrs. Weasley for a moment before turning his gaze to Ginny. "Ginny? What does she mean?"

Ginny sighed as deeply as her mother and refused to make eye contact with her or with Harry. Instead she looked hopefully over at Fred, who was now standing next to George. Only when she had her own steaming cup of tea did she turn to look deeply into Harry's eyes. Harry's face, which was creased with worry, slowly grew long and pale as he finally read Ginny's expression. "I really think we should go," Ginny said finally. Mrs. Weasley, who had been holding stock-still and glaring at Ginny, slammed her empty cup down on the table, making Harry jump.

"Ginny. Are you sure?" Arthur leaned over the table and took his daughter's hand. "It's awfully difficult at that stage."

"I appreciate that dad," Ginny smiled warmly and squeezed his hand, "but I figure it's going to be difficult no matter what we do. Besides, it's not like we'll be camping out in the woods and sleeping in snowdrifts."

"But what about the schedule?" Mrs. Weasley spoke up again. "With the tournament on top of everything else how can you expect to have enough time to take care of a baby?"

"First of all, _I_ won't be running the tournament," Ginny replied curtly, "and for that matter neither will Harry. All he has to do is teach and coach the champion. If we were to stay at Hogwarts… I can only imagine. He's incredibly busy already. If we stay he'll be acting Headmaster on top of what he does now. I, for one, think this choice is a blessing. Minerva's told us that the schedule can be much more flexible with so few students. Harry can even move classes around to give us longer weekends. That way you might be able to visit every few weeks. Running Hogwarts is bound to be much more demanding than all that."

Harry sighed deeply and rubbed his chin in thought.

"What?" Ginny scoffed at him. "Don't you want to go?"

"That's just the thing," Harry said meekly.

"You don't?" Ginny glared at him as if some imposter had abducted her husband and replaced him with Percy. "Well, I never would have guessed, not in a thousand years—"

"I do want to go," Harry interrupted. Ginny continued to stare in disbelief. "Even when Minerva was first telling me about it I was thinking of how exciting it would be. It didn't even occur to me right away that we'd have the baby too. And then I realized my excitement had gotten the better of me, but I still couldn't get it out of my mind. I thought I was just being selfish. I was hoping you'd talk me out of it." Fred and George laughed, startling Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley simply smiled neutrally and continued observing.

"Well, now I can talk you into it instead," Ginny said resolutely.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry replied in defeat. "You've already made the case to go. I can't think of any reason not to do it now."

"I can!" Mrs. Weasley interjected.

"I'm listening," Ginny said skeptically.

"For one, there's—"

"Sorry we're late!" Ron's voice floated over from the doorway.

"I hope we haven't kept you waiting," Hermione entered behind Ron looking mortified. "Ron here insisted on—"

"Hermione, Ron, whatever the reason is, I'm sure it is a good one," Mr. Weasley said, hoping to keep the conversation from straying too far. "Please, come and sit. Harry and Ginny are here, and with some very interesting news."

Ron and Hermione didn't sit down or even remove their cloaks as Harry repeated the story of Professor McGonagall's request for him to lead the expedition of students to Durmstrang for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Ginny jumped in every now and then to put her own spin on the situation. Ron's face grew steadily more excited as Harry filled them in on more of the details. Hermione looked as though she weren't sure if she should be happy or terrified that they were planning to take on such a task.

"You see this is actually much better for Harry," Ginny interrupted again. "He'd be far busier trying to run that whole school and teach on top of it. This way he'll be in charge of just a few students. How many is it now Harry?"

"It's going to be a rather small representation this time around. My Tri-Wizard prep course is down to ten."

"Plus, with that prep course of yours, they're doing a lot to get ready now," Ginny continued. "Once we finally get to Durmstrang, there won't be much left to do but teach the students who aren't chosen and get them ready for N.E.W.T.s."

"It seems alright I guess," Hermione said after a long silence. "Still, that's a long time away from home? I don't remember, how are the accommodations on the train?"

"Train?" Ron blurted out suddenly.

"Of course, you wouldn't know," said Harry. He and Hermione knew about the setup for the previous tournament because of their involvement in the Ministry. "You remember how the other two schools came to Hogwarts? Beauxbatons had the carriage and Durmstrang had the ship." Ron nodded mutely. "We use the Hogwarts Express. They take a few of the cars and modify them to give us room for sleeping quarters, as well as a large room that doubles as a classroom and a common room. Minerva has promised us additional space and extra privacy guards. I'm sure I'll be able to set up some wards myself as well."

"But, if you have the Hogwarts Express, how do they get everyone home from Hogwarts on holidays?" George asked when Ron hesitated.

"We won't need all of the cars at Durmstrang, and once we're there, we don't need the engine either since we will stay there over the holidays. There are enough cars left to handle the rest of the students back at Hogwarts."

"So you'll have living quarters, classroom space, a common area…" Ron counted absently on one hand as he listed things off. "What about kitchens? Will you have to do your own cooking?"

"I expect we'll be eating in Durmstrang Castle," Harry speculated.

"That makes sense. They ate with us didn't they," Hermione added.

"But I do think there will be a kitchen if we need it. We'll also have a couple of house-elves."

"What?" Hermione spat suddenly. "Now that's going too far, really. You'll just have to refuse Harry. They don't need to make house-elves go along for just thirteen people. It's not really fair to drag them along too."

"Actually, I think they enjoy it," Harry said gently, trying to calm Hermione.

"Come on Harry," Hermione raged on. "House-elves are always pretending they like what they do. How can you be sure they actually want to go?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, smiling at Ron as he savored a rare moment when he was sure he had the upper hand in an argument with Hermione. "There's a waiting list."

"Ha!" Fred laughed out loud.

"Bless them," George snickered along-side his twin. Hermione scowled at them for a moment, but relented when she realized nobody shared her concern.

"I imagine they like getting out and seeing new places," Ginny said helpfully. "Think about it Hermione. How many house-elves ever get to see anything but their master's home? This has got to be one of the most liberating opportunities a house-elf can get without clothes," Ginny finished with a wink at Harry. Harry couldn't help but admire Ginny's ability to choose just the right words to get Hermione on her side. He smiled briefly as he realized it was a skill she employed successfully against him as well.

"That is true," Hermione admitted. "I guess there's no hope talking them out of it anyway."

"Now Molly," Mr. Weasley said after a moment's ponderous silence, "you had some concerns."

Mrs. Weasley let out her own great grunt of defeat and folded her arms across her chest. "It's too late now. They've gone and explained away all of my good excuses." Everybody laughed and the mood in the room seemed to lighten considerably. "If this is what you really want…"

"I know it will be hard dear mother," Ginny said grinning, "but you will have plenty of time to spoil the baby rotten after we get back." The whole room laughed again and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shared a knowing smile.

"Well, I'd best get started on dinner before it gets too late," said Mrs. Weasley, pulling her apron down from a well-worn peg on the wall opposite the stove. Harry and Hermione both moved to help as everyone stood and began to move about. "No dears, it's quite alright. I can handle the food if you lot can set up the table."

"You know," said George as he, Fred, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry all bustled around the glass-walled dining room, spreading table-cloths and cutlery, "it's just occurred to me how curious it is that the first baby in the next generation of Weasleys is going to be the child of the youngest sibling out of seven."

"It is quite interesting my dear George," Fred added with a wink at Ginny, who glared daggers at him. "Bill and Fleur really need to get cracking," he added with a chuckle and another wink.

"Actually," George responded, "I heard they have been trying for a while now. Apparently Veela-Human babies are harder to conceive."

"How ironic is that?" Fred responded jovially as everyone laughed again.

* * *

The harsh winter ended quite suddenly at the end of March, and by mid April the temperatures were rising rapidly. Spring fever hit Hogwarts with a sudden burst of youthful energy. The O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students could be seen daily, grumbling their way up to the library as they enviously watched their friends from other years enjoying the radiant grounds. Harry found that he couldn't help but join in with the other teachers, and he began to pour on more and more homework; the end of the term growing more imminent with each passing day. 

"We really must focus on completing our readings and research by the end of April," Harry admonished his seventh-years one day.

"April? Why so soon professor?"

"Because, Miss Anderson, that will give us the entire month of May to focus on practical application and review. You'll all be in a world of hurt if you're still stuck in the library the week before your N.E.W.T.s."

Harry began to grow concerned that he was loosing his good rapport with his students. Even the most studious among them began to complain as their workload increased. Still, he knew how much they would appreciate the reprieve once April was behind them.

Indeed as they continued into May, the students saw their hard work finally paying off. Harry looked on with pride at the confidence they were showing during their practical exercises. Compared to the grueling study of the previous few weeks, the students almost felt as though vacation had come early.

Harry entertained no such feelings of relief. Ginny's pregnancy was progressing rapidly and Harry's worry for her grew to more nerve-racking levels the longer he was away from her. Ginny threatened several times to pack up and relocate temporarily to the Burrow. "Harry, if you don't stop fussing over me I'll throttle you where you stand."

"But I worry about you Ginny," Harry responded, panting slightly. He had taken to running up to their apartment every chance he got.

"I love you too," Ginny said with a strained smile, settling herself heavily on the couch as Harry kneeled at her side. "Now go back to class."

"Nah, they'll be fine for at least another twenty minutes. I've got them working on—"

"Harry…" Ginny scolded.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. Now get down there before I hex you." Ginny leaned over toward her wand.

"Okay," Harry said, rising in defeat. "Can I get you anything on my way out?"

"Harry, I swear to you, if you don't—"

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

* * *

Harry almost felt sorry for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Neither they, nor Ravenclaw had even a remote chance at the Quidditch Cup, but the Hufflepuff team was doing their absolute best to run up the score one Saturday in early May. Harry would have admonished the Hufflepuffs for their never-ending quest for more and more points, but he knew all too well what Austin Jones, the team captain, had been drilling into his teammates for the past few weeks. The only shot they had at beating Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup was to earn as many points as possible in this, their last game of the year. Harry had to admit the situation was even a bit unfair to Hufflepuff, because no matter how many points they gained, they would never know if it was enough. 

"If they catch the Snitch right now, Hufflepuff would be ahead of Gryffindor by 340 points in the race for the cup. All Gryffindor would have to do is score 350 in their game against Ravenclaw and they would win," Eric Simmons observed over his loudspeaker. The actual match was turning out to be somewhat dull as it was so one-sided, so Eric had done his best to add as much commentary in between plays to keep things exciting.

"It may interest you to know," Eric continued, "that Austin Jones, the Hufflepuff Captain, is the eldest son of the well known Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Gwenog Jones. He seems to be in fine position to follow in her footsteps and become a professional Quidditch player. He will, of course, have to join a rival team though."

That evening, Neville and Harry sat discussing the match at dinner.

"Good game Neville."

"If you say so," Neville replied glumly.

"My, your standards _are _high. You won by over 800 points," Harry said enthusiastically.

"I know, but I just feel guilty. That game was shameful and embarrassing. I'm glad Jessica finally caught the snitch. I was about to call Austin over and have him end the game."

"Hey, that's the game," Harry said matter-of-factly as he spooned roasted potatoes onto his plate. "It's an unfortunate by-product of the strategy of the contest. Occasionally, the opponent you're playing against isn't even the one on the pitch."

"Yeah, it is a bit strange," Neville responded distantly, taking the bowl of potatoes from Harry. "I must say the most interesting part of that match was the commentary. I never would have thought Eric Simmons could be so good at it."

"He does come off as a bit… indifferent, I guess you could say," Harry said with a shrug.

"He's been like that for several years," Minerva interjected from Harry's other side. "I've always been a bit worried about him."

"Well, he's been much better lately," Neville said brightly. "It was like a transformation once you decided to put that microphone in his hands, Harry. He's been studying harder and getting his work in on time. He's almost a completely different student."

"I've seen that happen before," McGonagall said, nodding and wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Some students just need to feel useful. Once they finally accomplish something that actually seems to matter they turn right around."

"Well, Quidditch was the one thing I was sure Eric knew a lot about," Harry pointed out. "Every time I caught him talking in class it was about something that had happened in a match over the weekend." They all laughed. "So one day I got frustrated and told him if he wanted to talk Quidditch, he may as well put it to good use."

Harry didn't remember much of the conversation after that. He spent the rest of dinner watching his students coming and going. Thinking back to the first time he had sat in this very seat, he thought of those faces and how they had changed. The first-years, eager and terrified, now walked through the Great Hall with a perception of ownership he remembered fondly. What had once been a strange, new world was now their home. Harry nodded politely as various faces glanced his way. A strange yet familiar feeling swept over him. While the first day of classes felt like such a short time ago, a comfortable familiarity enveloped him and he felt as though he had been teaching at Hogwarts for years.

* * *

"What was that?" Harry said, his eyes opening sleepily. 

"Hm?" Ginny sighed next to him.

"I think the baby just kicked me."

Ginny laughed silently and leaned back with her arm across her forehead. "I get kicked all the time. It's inevitable. The Weasleys are famous for tantrums."

"That's something to look forward to," Harry smiled with amusement, rolling over beside Ginny and wrapping his arms around her middle.

"As long as they're on the outside soon. This kid is driving me crazy. I just got to sleep and now this."

"Can I get you anything?" Harry said, nuzzling her cheek and inhaling deeply through her flame-red hair.

"You can open a window. It's really hot in here."

"Anything else?" Harry said as he slid out of the bed.

"Just the window. Thank you sweetie."

Harry shivered slightly as the cool night air swept through the room. He stopped at the wardrobe on his way back, pulling on a warmer shirt as he padded softly back to the bed. Ginny snored gently as he pulled the covers tightly around him. Harry gazed dreamily at his beautiful wife, and he thought of how lucky he was, and of the many wonderful things soon to come.

* * *

In all his years, Harry had never been able to understand the concept of pacing. He had watched other people do it with wonderment. What was it that possessed people to engage in such a pointless activity? 

"Harry are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't that he didn't understand being nervous. Harry Potter, of all people, was no stranger to apprehension. Just thinking of all the times he had waited impatiently for something he knew was coming, but not when it would arrive, made his skin crawl. All of those dark and dreadful nights, filled with agony and suffering… and uncertainty. Harry jumped at the tender touch of a friend's hand on his.

"Harry, won't you sit down?"

"I'm fine."

How dare Voldemort invade his mind at a time like this. Harry scolded himself silently and turned his mind to other things. The walls around him were a soft yellow. The tile beneath his feet was hard and cold, yet comforting. The window in the corner looked out onto a beautiful summer day, with trees rustling in the gentle breeze. What was it that caused a man to wander aimlessly in circles? He couldn't rationally believe it would make the time pass any faster. Harry stopped as he realized this wasn't the first time in his life he'd caught himself pacing. He looked down at the empty chair next to Hermione as if it were some foreign object he had never encountered before. Staring resolutely at nothing, he continued his aimless wandering.

"I should be allowed to at least chuck Dungbombs at you while you do that." Harry was jerked back to reality by the sound of Ginny's voice, beautiful yet strained and tired. Her face, with a similar mixture of exhaustion looked back at him, a pleading expression in her eyes.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice came from behind him.

"Is everything alright?" Ron's worried face appeared at the door through the smallest crack he could manage.

"Would you take Harry for a cup of tea or something please," Hermione said in exasperation.

"Don't you think he should stay here for—"

"Ronald!"

"Alright. Whatever you say. Come on Harry."

Something familiar was tickling the back of Harry's mind. Ginny looked back at him with her pleading eyes and then turned her gaze toward something else. What was she looking at? Harry gazed at her simple beauty, shining through her pain-stricken façade. What was that familiar sound?

"Harry?"

"Oh Ron, for heaven's sake, you can come in."

"Hiya Ginny," Ron said awkwardly.

"Just keep him busy for a while would you."

Harry's aimless footsteps were no longer his own. The yellow walls and softly lit room gave way to a harsh brightness. He smiled as a large quantity of red hair appeared in front of him. When did Ginny get so tall?

"Harry? Harry mate, snap out of it. You're in another world from me."

"Ron? What just happened?" Suddenly the environment around him cascaded in upon him. Sound came back to him as though his head had just broken the surface of the Great Lake.

"I think we lost you there for a minute. Come on. Fred and George and I will get you some tea. You'll let us know if anything changes dad?"

"Of course. You have nothing to worry about Harry," Arthur responded kindly.

"But what about…"

"Mum and Hermione are in there with Ginny," Ron said helpfully as the three redheads marched Harry down the corridor. "From what I've heard you'll just get in the way anyway."

"Don't worry Harry," George chimed in. "We've been through this before."

"Yeah, I remember when Ginny was born," Fred said nostalgically. "We had to sit out in this hallway for ages with Bill and Charlie."

"You were only three! You remember that?" Ron said incredulously.

"Naturally," said George. "We were getting tired of playing with you anyway so we were really looking forward to it."

"I wish I could remember it," Ron said dejectedly.

"At least you were here," Fred admonished him. "Think about poor Harry. This is completely new to him. He never had any siblings, unless you count that prat Dudley."

"Ah, here we are," said George ceremoniously as he pushed open the door to a large room filled with squashy armchairs and a comforting aroma of tea and fresh biscuits.

"So, how would you like your tea Harry?" Ron asked as they approached a small cart in the corner where a young attendant waited eagerly to serve them. The handsome young man looked to be just a year or two younger than Harry. Reaching for a silver teapot he looked over at Harry and suddenly did a double take, nearly dropping the kettle. Fred whipped out his wand in a flash and saved the teapot while George shook his head in warning. The attendant nodded and swallowed hard.

"Can I get you anything… sir?"

"I'm fine," Harry said distractedly.

"Better just make it nice and strong," Ron said as he and Fred directed Harry over to a set of comfortable chairs in the opposite corner, as far away from anyone else in the room as possible.

"Make it four," George said and then leaned over the teacart, speaking more softly. "Listen to me very carefully. I know you know who that is and I think you've probably figured out by now why he's here. He's under enough stress as it is so I hope you'll see fit to keep your nose out and your mouth shut. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly. I don't want any trouble… Mr. Weasley."

"Good. I see you know who I am too," George said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few coins for the tea and a small piece of bright red paper. "Take this. It's good for any of our small package starter sets, compliments of _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_."

"Thank you sir!" the boy said eagerly.

"Don't mention it," George said with a smile, "and I mean that literally."

"What kept you?" Fred asked his twin softly when George had joined up with the rest of them.

"Just taking care of some business," George said evasively.

"So Harry, what do you think it's going to be?" Fred asked, hoping to keep the conversation light.

"Mm," Harry mumbled noncommittally, shrugging.

"Yeah, but I'm sure you've thought about it," George said, joining in. "There are plenty of boys in the family already so I guess another girl would be nice.

"Then again, Harry is going to want another 'man of the house' some day," Fred countered.

"Either would be nice. I'm honestly glad I don't have to pick one. I don't know how I could choose," Harry said firmly.

"The man does speak!" George teased as their tea arrived with an extra large plate of biscuits.

"If there's anything else I can get for you, please don't hesitate to ask," the boy said nervously as he set a cup of steaming tea in front of each of them.

"We won't," George said firmly. With a courteous nod, and a second glance at Harry's forehead, the boy retreated to his cart.

"Ooh, that's good," said Fred with a delicious slurp. "Try some Harry."

"Go on Harry. You'll feel better," Ron pleaded. His own cup remained untouched. Slowly, Harry raised his cup from its saucer and lifted it to his lips. He closed his eyes and breathed the first full breath he had taken since they had arrived. "There, now that's the spirit." Harry nodded slowly and took another sip. Ron, Fred and George all jumped as a sudden bang echoed from behind them. Harry's eyes shot open and he set his cup down quickly. Turning around quickly, the three brothers saw what Harry was seeing. There in the doorway was their father, panting and wearing a huge grin on his face. Before any of them could blink they had all scrambled through the doorway.


	16. Chapter 15: What's in a Name?

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 15: What's in a Name?  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry and Ginny introduce their newest family member to the world, though they struggle to choose a name. Moving into this next stage of their lives, they both experience new joys and frustrations, with each other and with those around them.

Author's Note: I apologize for the length of my absence. Being a church musician, the spring is always a busy season for me. Now that Lent and Easter are over I have a bit more time on my hands and I hope I can make updates more often again. Thank you to all of my readers for sticking with me.

* * *

"Mr. Potter? The Goblin is here." 

"For Merlin's sake Kate, don't call him 'The Goblin.' It's so rude. He has a name you know."

"Mr. Griphook? Mr. Potter will see you now," Kate bowed her head slightly as a short but dignified looking Goblin strode confidently through the door. He wrinkled his nose and narrowed his eyes slightly as he passed Kate, who eyed him cautiously before glancing up at her boss as she shut the door softly.

"Griphook! How wonderful to see you again. Can I offer you something to drink? You know, I recently acquired a bottle of fine Goblin-made whiskey. Perhaps you might know best how to enjoy it."

"I might," the Goblin replied politely as he took a seat. "What family is it?"

"You mean the label? Let me see if I have it here." Griphook looked on with amusement as his host busied himself in a nearby cabinet, his muffled voice carrying out from behind the cabinet door. "If I remember right it was 'Bladvak something.' Yes, here it is: 'Bladvak, 1612.' Doesn't Bladvak mean—?"

"Where did you get this?" Griphook asked severely, taking out an ancient looking jeweler's glass and studying the label carefully.

"It was a birthday present from Penny Rosmerta. She found it in her grandmother's bar. Apparently it's been there for years. They only just uncovered it."

"I should think so," Griphook continued, holding the bottle up to the light. "I'm surprised it was ever found at all. Then again, our concealment techniques weren't nearly as sophisticated back then." He set the bottle gently upon the desk. "That's quite a piece of history you have there."

"From the rebellion of 1612? I thought so."

Griphook reclined comfortably in his chair, his short legs sticking straight out. He interlaced his long fingers and placed his hands neatly in his lap before going on. "Bladvak was from a family of miners in Scotland; up near Culross in Fife," Griphook began with the air of telling an old story that had been passed down through many generations. "Much to his father's frustration, Bladvak's whiskey business was very successful. He had made some of the finest whiskey available and his label was coveted throughout the region. He even did a steady trade with the wizard population. However, when the Minister found out that Bladvak was a key instigator in the rebellion, most bottles of his make were destroyed and he never returned to the business, though recent evidence suggests he did survive the hostilities. One thing is certain: this must be one of the last bottles he ever made."

There was an awkward silence. "I suppose we shouldn't drink it then."

"I didn't say that," Griphook responded with what must have been a wry grin; such expressions were so rare for a Goblin, it was hard to tell exactly what it was. "In fact, I expect it will never be finer than it is right now. It would be a shame not to enjoy it while it's still good. I see you have glasses already. Do you have any ice?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Normally I would say it isn't needed, but this sort of thing is usually stored deep in the cellar and it is rather warm in here."

There was a long, luxurious silence, punctuated by the smacking of lips as they each sampled their first taste.

"So, Mr. Potter, what do you think?"

"It's excellent. Thank you for your insight. I'll see to it that you get the bottle when it is finished. I expect it holds a certain value."

"You are too kind," Griphook responded with a slight bow of his head.

"Now, what brings you here today?"

"As you may know, Gringotts has recently acquired a property across Diagon Alley from our main building. Now, we've already been expanding within our current property, but we would like to relocate a few departments to this new location."

"Sounds reasonable. I sense there is a complication."

"You are perceptive." Griphook paused for a moment and fiddled with a rather large, multi-gemmed ring on one of his long fingers. "You understand that secrecy is of paramount importance regarding the inner workings of the bank and—"

"I understand completely. I assure you this will remain strictly between us, as always."

"Very good," Griphook replied with satisfaction. "Firstly, we have a problem with the shop behind our new one. They seem to have extended their cellar underneath our property."

"Behind? Wouldn't that be on Knockturn Alley?"

"Yes," Griphook replied dramatically.

"I see. That is concerning. Thank you, of course, for bringing this to our attention. I'll see to it this is investigated. No doubt, some less than reputable business is related to this illegal expansion. We will have to ask for your patience and silence on the matter until it is resolved. I hope you understand. This may take some time."

"Naturally. Take as much time as you need. Our first concern is that this all goes over smoothly." Griphook nodded genially as he took another sip, looking somewhat reluctant to make his next request. "Secondly, for what we would like to do with this new acquisition, we would need to extend our tunnels underneath the street to reach the new property."

"I see…"

There was a long pause as the two studied each other like a pair of chess players, silently gauging the other's next move.

Griphook broke the silence first. "We were hoping you might be able to smooth things over with the Minister regarding this project."

"This isn't that simple."

"That, Mr. Potter, is why we came to you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere my dear Griphook." They both chuckled uncomfortably. The silence around them now seemed brittle and cold. Both were working hard to hide the awkwardness of the situation.

"How long have you worked here?" Griphook asked delicately.

"About six years. I know where you're going with this so I'll finish for you. I'll admit I do have a fair amount of influence, but I don't know if it's enough for something this…" There was another pause. This time Griphook remained silent, waiting patiently. "If you are hoping to do this and keep it secret, we'll need to do a lot of work to make sure it doesn't get out. The obliviator squad will need to be notified, for example. Just the same, I don't see how your neighbors won't figure it out in spite of any precautions. Madam Malkin may be old but she still hears perfectly well, and I've never known anyone to hear the local gossip before she does."

"I understand. It is a lot to ask, but this expansion will mean significant improvements at Gringotts. I don't have to tell you, people are beginning to complain about the lines on peak days. This would make us much more efficient." Griphook paused briefly to allow this to sink in. "Mr. Potter?" he asked cautiously after a moment.

"What?"

"Perhaps you could—"

"No!"

"Just listen—"

"Absolutely not."

"If you would just—"

"I'm not going to do it."

"Mr. Potter—"

"No!"

"Mr. Potter—"

"NO!"

"WILLIAM!"

There was a sudden silence as they stared at each other's ardent expressions. Both were standing now, neither one blinking.

"William…" Griphook said again, softly. "Please, could you ask your father? He knows the right people and—"

"I know who he knows!"

The bitter silence permeated the room again.

"I know your father isn't the biggest friend of Goblins," Griphook said diplomatically, "but he knows the merchants of Diagon Alley better than anyone, and you know they'd do anything if he asked them to. We all know this is something that everyone needs, wizards and Goblins alike. He'll understand how important this is."

"It's not that simple," William replied.

"But it is," Griphook countered politely.

"No…" William looked over at a picture, framed on the corner of his desk, and sighed, "…it isn't." He paused for a moment with his fingers peaked beneath his chin. "Do you know why my father doesn't like Goblins?"

"In my experience, even the best of people don't need a reason," Griphook said bitterly.

"Not in this case," William responded matter-of-factly. "You should know it's rather out of character for him." Griphook nodded. William stood and walked behind his chair, staring aimlessly at his shelves, which were teeming with unusual and mysterious artifacts. Griphook noticed a slight limp to William's step as he wandered, though he compensated for it so automatically, it was almost undetectable. "Prejudice is a complicated subject with my father," William said with effort. "He's terribly embarrassed by it. He's struggled for years to keep it under control. That's why nobody knows why he doesn't seem to like Goblins. If he had his way people wouldn't even know that much. It's simply too much for him to forget what happened. He knows it's irrational, but he just can't let it go."

"What is it then? Why does he have so much trouble with Goblins?"

"Because of me."

* * *

"He ees beautiful." 

"Don't embarrass the poor child Fleur. I believe the word you are looking for is 'handsome.'" Bill and Fleur sat on either side of Ginny admiring their new nephew, who was nestled comfortably in his mother's arms. Harry had gone with Mrs. Weasley to bring a pair of large trays bearing sandwiches into The Burrow's comfortable living room.

"Thanks Mum," said Bill as Mrs. Weasley turned toward the kitchen again.

"You're welcome as always. Shout if you need anything." Mrs. Weasley smiled happily at the group of people surrounding her new grandson.

"What ees 'is name?" Fleur asked the room at large.

"We haven't decided yet," Harry said as he offered the food to everyone.

"Really?" Bill said incredulously. "I would've thought Ginny would have a whole list of names picked out."

"That's the problem," Ginny said, switching the baby from one arm to the other.

"I see," Bill said with a chuckle. "Well, after a while, maybe something in his personality will jump out at you. Give it some time. I don't think you'll ever regret waiting a little bit." Bill and Fleur gazed almost longingly at the tiny infant. Ginny knew they had been struggling to start their own family and couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

"Would you like to hold him?" Ginny asked Bill quietly.

"It's alright?"

"Of course. I have to go to the loo anyway."

It was more than obvious that Bill—the oldest child of seven—had done this a few times before. He knew just how to cradle the tiny child. "Just like riding a broomstick. You never forget," Bill said confidently as he gazed down at his nephew, adjusting the hand knitted blanket that was wrapped around him.

"It's really wonderful you two could make it," Ginny said after the baby was settled. "It's so great to see you both. I know you've been on the road a lot for Gringotts."

"Eet's our pleasure. I was getting tired of all ze caves and tombs," Fleur said, tossing her hair back with a flourish. Ginny suspected she had been deprived of this particular activity for quite a while. Fleur's long hair would be a serious liability while exploring unknown places unless it was wrapped up tightly.

"Wow," Bill said with a huge grin on his face. "You know, the last time I did this I was holding you, Ginny."

"'E ees so good with children," Fleur beamed.

"Here, why don't you take him for a while," Bill said, shifting the baby carefully into his wife's arms. Fleur almost seemed to transform. She had never looked less like herself. The haughty self-importance she usually carried around with her melted away and she took on a whole new appearance, one that was loving and nurturing rather than snobby and self-absorbed. "There you go, nothing to it," Bill said as Fleur rocked the baby gently. "This is the easy part."

"I'll say," Ginny replied enthusiastically as she turned to leave the room.

"Do you need help with anything?" Harry asked as Ginny passed him.

"No Harry love, I think I can manage to use a toilet without supervision," Ginny sighed with a hint of frustration.

"Sorry," Harry replied, lowering his head, "I guess I…"

"I know. I'll be right back. Save a sandwich or two for me," Ginny replied, squeezing Harry's arm. She gave Bill a belated hug hello and whispered briefly in his ear. Bill nodded covertly. Harry was watching Fleur entertain the baby.

"So how was your first year at Hogwarts Harry?" Bill asked, taking a seat next to Harry as Fleur continued to bounce the baby gently. The infant cooed and squirmed slightly, his big brown eyes focused intently on her face.

"It was great," Harry said breathlessly, finally pulling his eyes away from his new son. "Those kids are incredible. I'm convinced they're ten times smarter than we were at that age. At this rate that little guy over there will be able to blow up his aunt long before he's thirteen."

"What?" Fleur asked severely. Both men laughed as she scowled back at them before returning her attention to her nephew.

"Somehow I doubt that," Bill said with a chuckle, "the former, not the latter I should say. After all, no matter what his first name will be, his last name _is_ Potter."

Harry smiled weakly but didn't say anything. Bill took the opportunity to change the subject.

"Heard Gryffindor had a good side for Quidditch this season."

"You heard right," Harry said, nodding excitedly. "You should have seen some of those moves they put on in their match against Hufflepuff; some of the best plays I've ever seen. A lot of the players have Quidditch in their families. Cailean Parkin, one of our chasers, is a descendant of Walter Parkin."

"Of the original Wigtown Wanderers? No kidding?" Bill said, leaning forward in interest.

"And we had two of the best beaters I've ever seen," Harry went on. "As you know, that's saying something."

"Better than Fred and George?" Bill said, raising one eyebrow.

"I'd have to say so," Harry admitted with mock reluctance. "You know the team reinvented the _Parkin's Pincer_ to involve not only the chasers but the beaters as well. Poor Austin Jones didn't have anywhere to go with five players closing in on him all at once."

"Wow. I would have liked to see that," Bill said nostalgically. "You know, there are still days when I miss Hogwarts."

"I don't see what ze big deel iz, with 'Ogwarts" Fleur interjected, rolling her eyes and looking back down at the baby, whose attention remained raptly focused on her.

"I guess some things will never change," Harry responded with a grin.

"People who've never been students there just don't understand," Bill added in a sickly sarcastic voice.

"Don't understand what?" Ginny asked curiously as she entered the room again.

"Hogwarts," Bill and Harry said together. Fleur just rolled her eyes again.

"I suppose not," said Ginny. "I do have to admit, I never thought I'd be so lucky to live there again."

"Me either," said Harry, as he stood and wrapped his arms around Ginny from behind, taking advantage of the rare moment when neither of them were occupied with the baby. "And even better is the company I keep."

"Another woman?" Ginny asked conversationally.

"Very funny," said Harry, giving her another tight squeeze.

"Ouch," Fleur yelped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Ginny slipped out of Harry's arms and was instantly at Fleur's side, inspecting the baby.

"I think… 'ee… I think 'ee pinched me," Fleur sputtered incoherently.

"The baby?" Harry said incredulously, his raised eyebrows disappearing into his messy black hair as he shared a confused look with Ginny.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked as Bill laughed quietly.

"I think your son is getting fresh with my wife," explained Bill with another chuckle. "He may be just a baby, but he's still a boy. Fleur, my dear, I think you're going to have to tone down the charm a bit."

Harry later thought it must have been a release-valve for the stress they had all been going through over the past few weeks. It was a very confused Mrs. Weasley who came in several minutes later to find Bill, Harry and Ginny doubled over in chuckles and chortles, Ginny trying desperately to hold the baby steady, and Bill and Harry leaning on each other for support, while Fleur adjusted her blouse in indignation.

* * *

"Ow," Ginny mumbled, rubbing her right knee as though it had just been kicked. 

"Now what?" Harry groaned beside her. "We just got to sleep."

"You think I don't know that Harry!" Ginny snapped.

"Shhh. Keep it down. I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"You're just what?" Ginny said in a whisper so harsh, it stung worse than yelling would have.

"…tired," Harry finished.

"Well, what did you expect with a new baby?"

"I expected to be tired," Harry yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Well you don't have to be so snippy," Ginny spat, folding her arms over her chest and staring up at the ceiling.

Harry stared at her in indignation and opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it; better if she figured it out on her own. After a few minutes he thought he saw realization in her expression, reflected in the light of a candle on the dresser. Her stubborn streak seemed to be holding her from speaking though as she sighed and continued staring at the ceiling. Harry lay completely still, resting his right cheek in his hand as he stared at Ginny, his own stubbornness now challenging him to wait Ginny out.

"Aren't you going to say anything," Ginny said after several minutes, her eyes still fixed on the shadowy texture of the ceiling treatment. Just then Harry let out a great grunt of a snore. Ginny turned to look at him in shock. "How dare y—"

"Hi," Harry said with a mocking wave of his hand as Ginny's eyes met his. "Gotcha," he teased with a victorious grin on his face.

"Why you…" Ginny groped behind her head, closing her hand around thin air.

"Looking for this?" Harry whispered, holding her second pillow high over his far shoulder, just out of reach.

"You know, I always knew you were trouble, Harry Potter."

Harry barely caught himself from letting out a great hoot of laughter. Instead he stifled it into something halfway between a snort and a sneeze.

"What?" Ginny said, glaring at him.

"I was just thinking of what Ron would say if he heard you say that," Harry replied. His voice was unusually high as he was barely containing his laughter as he spoke. Still struggling not to laugh he was biting his lips and trying so hard to look innocent he simply looked silly. Ginny just shook her head and sighed.

"Oh, I give up. I don't have the energy anyway," Ginny said in resignation. "Let's just sleep while we still can."

"Agreed," Harry responded happily as they adjusted their positions.

"Ow," Ginny said again.

"What is it?" Harry asked in concern.

"Oh nothing," Ginny said with a slight grimace. "It's just my knee. I must've stood on it wrong or something. Don't worry about it. Go to sleep."

"Good night sweetheart," Harry said with a kiss.

"'Night," Ginny mumbled with a glance over at the crib on the other side of the room. Seeing no movement she laid her head down and was instantly asleep.

* * *

"Ah, a new customer!" George said with relish as he trotted quickly out from behind the marble front counter of _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes._ "Oy Fred!" He bellowed, sticking his head through a red curtain concealing a doorway behind him. "Whatever the Professor wants it'll have to wait. We've got a V.I.P. Customer out here!" 

"This had better be good," Fred's muffled voice called as the sound of his footsteps approached. Suddenly the curtain was ripped aside to reveal the other twin, looking frustrated and holding several multicolored quills. "I was just telling the Professor—"

"Good afternoon to you too Fred."

"Ginny! Harry!" Fred's quills fell straight to the floor, forgotten. "This is certainly a surprise. How are you? What are you doing here?"

"Baby's first outing," Harry announced. Just then another familiar face appeared from behind the curtain.

"Oh my goodness. Of all the people I wouldn't expect to see today…" Professor McGonagall beamed, hugging Ginny and Harry each in turn before turning her attention to the newest Potter in his homemade wicker basket, which was charmed to float in mid-air. "Isn't he a handsome fellow? He certainly has his father's hair doesn't he?" she said, brushing her fingers through a full head of dark black hair. "I must say it does lie a bit flatter though, at least for now." Harry smoothed his own hair down self-consciously. Fred and George laughed while Ginny rolled her eyes, pulling Harry's hand down to his side.

"So what do you think Harry Junior would like today?" Fred asked, looking around at the nearest shelves and bins. "It's on the house of course."

"Don't call him that," Ginny scolded. "We're not naming him Harry."

"You haven't chosen a name yet?" McGonagall asked neutrally.

"No," Harry responded. "We've narrowed it down a bit, but we're still not sure."

"If you don't mind my asking, are you having any trouble agreeing?" Minerva suggested cautiously.

"No actually," said Ginny, "that isn't the problem. We're more or less working from the same list. We both like a lot of names but it's hard to just pick one."

"I see. Well, I don't see any need to rush it. I expect one day you'll know which one is right."

"Thank you Minerva," Ginny said, glaring at Fred who busied himself with a display of trick wands near the front counter.

"So how did you manage to get away without Mum tagging along?" asked George. Harry laughed and Ginny looked distantly up at the ceiling and sighed deeply.

"We didn't," Ginny groaned. "We lost her in Flourish and Blotts." Fred, George and Professor McGonagall all laughed knowingly.

"I expect it won't be long before she tracks us down," Harry added. As if on cue, the plump form of Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"There you are! Don't run off on me like that. I was—" But she was cut off by another burst of laughter.

"Molly, we were just talking about you," McGonagall said cheerfully to a scowling Mrs. Weasley.

"I can imagine," Mrs. Weasley replied, glaring at Ginny and Harry. "How are you Minerva?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Well, now that we have a party, have you all had tea already?" George asked enthusiastically.

"Not yet," Harry answered cautiously. He had always been leery of Fred and George's schemes. Now, with the new baby, he was even more cautious of them. He looked over to see Ginny's reaction. She seemed positively pleased by the idea.

"In that case, since we don't have any other customers at the moment, why don't we all head down to the Leaky Cauldron and catch up; our treat," Fred suggested.

"I don't know," Mrs. Weasley said reluctantly. "We probably ought to get the baby home."

"Oh come off it Mum," Ginny said with frustration. "Look at him. He's fine. Tea sounds wonderful Fred." Before anyone could answer, Ginny directed the baby basket ahead of her and turned out the door. Mrs. Weasley threw her hands up in defeat and walked out behind Ginny. Harry waited for Professor McGonagall to exit and then fell in line behind Fred as George followed behind Harry, reaching for the door.

"Ouch," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Everything alright Harry?" George asked.

"Fine…" Harry said, wincing as he rubbed his elbow. "I guess I just bumped my elbow against the door."

George raised a suspicious eyebrow but said nothing as he locked up the shop, sealing the door and windows with his wand before turning and walking alongside Harry, following the mass of red hair ahead of them as it dissolved into the throng of shoppers going this way and that.

* * *


	17. Chapter 16: Diagnosis

Title: Memories of the Future  
Chapter Title: Chapter 16: Diagnosis  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: HBP Spoiler  
Summary: Harry slips away from the Burrow for a meeting at Auror Headquarters where he learns of the continuing loyalty of his former colleagues and something that frightens him more than anything ever has.

* * *

Harry couldn't decide if it was nostalgia or trepidation that was distracting him as the lift doors opened before him. The familiar voice ("Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office…") seemed strangely pleasant considering he had once grown to despise hearing it every day. Harry chuckled as he gazed through the enchanted windows along the hallway which seemed to be mocking the cloudless summer heat outside by displaying a stunning winter landscape, complete with horse drawn sleighs and smoke puffing from every chimney. 

Harry paused outside the massive double doors at the end of the corridor with a great sense of apprehension. Staring up at their heavy oaken façade he thought it might not be the worst idea in the world to magically remove them from their hinges and levitate them along in front of him so nobody would see him walking through his former department. Better judgment told him there was a strong chance such actions would be noticed and blow his cover. After all, he'd have been a sorry excuse for Head of the Department of Aurors if his former charges couldn't detect such a ruse right under their noses, however ingenious it might have been. With a final sigh of preparation he pressed one door open just far enough to slip inside.

The hustle and bustle was just as he remembered it, if not a bit subdued. Harry had chosen this particular day to visit because the Department had, just the previous week, completed a three-month-long sting operation to shut down a front for illegal dragon fighting. Many of those involved were either at St. Mungo's with minor injuries or else on a long overdue vacation. Harry figured he'd encounter a much smaller group of people today. He stood for a moment and absorbed the chaos of conversation and laughter, paper aeroplane messages flittering this way and that, and the occasional head popping up above a cubicle to shout a comment into a nearby one or to the room at large. Somehow if there were a large group of Aurors missing today Harry wouldn't have noticed. Every square inch was packed as full as ever.

Bracing himself, Harry began to walk briskly but unobtrusively along the rows, making his way toward the opposite corner and hoping to avoid catching anyone's attention, though he knew it was quite an optimistic goal. To his surprise he never heard shouts of his name or the ensuing uproar that surely would have ensued once someone had spotted him. At first he thought he actually might have miraculously avoided detection. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he lifted his gaze from the floor in front of him to the faces of his former colleagues. What he saw gave him pause enough to slow his pace. Most people along his immediate path had, in fact, noticed his presence, but instead of the flood of surprised gasps and excited shrieks he had been expecting, most people simply smiled as he passed. Some nodded their heads respectfully or winked with a friendly wave, but not one person actually spoke to him. Just as quickly as he had approached them, he passed them by in turn and they each returned to their work as if he still walked through every day and this were just another day at Auror Headquarters.

"Harry, how are you? Congratulations on the newest member of the family! It's so good to see you," said a witch with curly grey hair and a rosy complexion. Her face was a mixture of warmth and no-nonsense strictness. There was no doubt she could be your best friend from the moment you met her right up to the moment you crossed her. As she spoke she rose from her chair slapping automatically at her square reading glasses, which somehow wound up neatly folded, hanging lightly from a jeweled string around her neck.

Harry was still looking about in bewilderment over the unusual silence that was still rippling behind him. "I'm wonderful Abigail, and thank you," Harry responded, pecking her on the cheek. "Is everyone alright?"

"Perfectly fine, why do you ask?" Abigail said calmly. It wasn't really a question. "I'll need a picture of the baby," she continued, indicating the wall beside her desk, which was decorated tastefully with pictures of family and friends.

"Consider it done."

"Excellent," she responded using unusually strong diction to show her enthusiasm. "Can I get you anything before you go in?"

"No, thank you. I had an early tea today."

"Very well. I'm sure you and Hermione have plenty to discuss so I'll show you right in. She's expecting you."

"I suppose she is," Harry said, casting one final glance over his shoulder to the sea of cubicles behind him.

"Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Potter to see you," Abigail said formally, holding the door to Harry's old office open for him.

"Thank you Abby. Harry, it's so wonderful to see you," Hermione exclaimed as they embraced. "Did Abby offer you—?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Splendid," Hermione said as they each took a seat by the fireplace. Hermione's redecoration of the office was subtle but comfortable. Harry thought it still seemed a bit masculine, even for Hermione's understated feminine taste. "I'm sorry I haven't been around; you staying at the Burrow all this time, just a stone's throw away and I've still hardly seen you. I hope Ginny's not upset. She's alright there with just Molly isn't she?"

"It's quite alright Hermione," Harry responded with a tired smile. "Ginny will be fine. Actually, it's not just the two of them. Ron stopped by and offered to stay while I'm gone. Ginny whishes she could see you, but she'll survive. We both know first hand how busy this job gets. Speaking of which, congratulations on last week. That must feel good."

"Oh," Hermione sighed, letting her head fall against the back of her chair, "you have no idea. Well, actually you do but… you have no idea."

Harry laughed. "I hope you don't mind my saying, I don't miss it."

"Not at all. I don't blame you," Hermione said emphatically, rubbing her temples and rolling her neck from side to side. "Still, I'm sure you're glad to see everybody again."

"Speaking of that," Harry said, suddenly remembering his strange entrance just moments ago, "is everyone okay? I expected all hell to break loose when I walked in. Nobody even said a word. Did you tell them I was coming?"

"Of course I did. I simply made the suggestion that they give you a little space. I guess they took my speech a little too seriously."

"Speech?" Harry gasped. "You did what?"

"Don't be so dramatic Harry. It wasn't anything like that. I just wanted to tell them as many details as I knew so you wouldn't have to answer so many questions. I must have come on a bit strong. I hope you don't mind."

"No… not really," Harry murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the lapel of his robes." I guess I was just, surprised, is all. I'm not really used to entering a room without an explosion of shouts."

"Even as much as you hate it, you've grown accustomed to it," Hermione said wisely.

"I suppose," Harry admitted with a shrug. He winced slightly as his shoulder tensed. "You said this was about the Tournament," he said, rocking his arm around to shake out the tightness.

"Yes. Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked, eyeing his shoulder with concern.

"What… this?" Harry said, dismissing the subject with a wave of his hand. "Probably just sore from holding the baby. I'll get used to it. You were saying?"

"Yes," Hermione continued, reaching for a roll of parchment on the corner of her desk. "Most of the preparations for the Triwizard Tournament are set. The final elements will be put in place just before each task, sometimes only the night before. We want to leave as little chance of giving things away as possible. You understand."

"Yes." Harry thought back to how easy it was for the champions to discover that Dragons were the objects of the first task when he was Champion 10 years ago. Remembering that Cedric never would have known if he, Harry, hadn't told him, Harry had to admit that sort of thing wasn't as likely this time and that complete secrecy was the fairest way to go.

"Good," said Hermione, scribbling a note on her parchment.

"Hermione, shouldn't this be done by the Department of Games and Sports?" Harry asked.

"It is. Their role is more or less unchanged from before, but as you know we've assigned a group of Aurors to supervise security concerns and I've asked for everything to go through me to be sure nothing is missed and nothing is leaked. I can set a meeting up for you with Oliver Wood if you would like. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

"That might be a good idea."

"I'll ask Abby to set it up for you." Hermione straightened her parchment and continued looking down the list. "As you know, the Hogwarts Express will take you and your students to Durmstrang Castle on 30 October. The journey is somewhat long and, even though Karkaroff is out of the picture and secrecy isn't as much an issue, they still guard their castle as carefully as we conceal Hogwarts. You'll depart on the 28th to give you enough time for the journey."

"Really? I hadn't expected that. I suppose I'll have to adjust my fall schedule slightly, but it shouldn't be a problem."

Hermione made another mark on her parchment and continued to the next line. "The coaches you use will be fully equipped for everything you need: bunks for the students, private quarters for you and Ginny and the baby, a common room which will also function as your classroom. We don't have to worry about the students getting along do we?"

"There's some healthy competitiveness but it's nothing really," Harry said dismissively. "They've been their own small group for several months now so we don't have to worry about house rivalries if that's what you mean. It might be tense for the first day or so, but once the champion is chosen I'm sure they'll care much more about supporting our champion than whatever differences they have with each other."

"And there are ten of them as I recall so—"

"Actually only seven," Harry interrupted. "Two threw in the towel before summer break and the third one had a death in the family and withdrew."

"Really? Well that is good news," Hermione said before catching herself. "I mean, it's unfortunate that…" she stammered, blushing slightly.

"It's alright Hermione. I knew what you meant. Fewer students should make some things easier I would think."

"Yes…" Hermione said with a frown.

"Really Hermione, don't worry about it. Devon's grandmother was sick. They knew it was coming. How would it help?" Harry asked, hoping to steer her back on track.

"How would what help?" Hermione asked distractedly.

"To have fewer students. I'm sure there are some things…"

"Oh yes. First of all, we can eliminate an entire coach from the train. We won't need as many desks. There are a number of things actually," she said, scribbling quickly on her parchment. "You know Harry, after this year I think the Ministry might want Hogwarts to adopt your pre-Tournament course as a permanent feature. Having such a small delegation is a real cost saver."

"As long as it's done impartially," Harry noted. "I'd hate to think what a man like Karkaroff might have done to a student whose name wasn't 'Victor Krum.'"

"It probably would have been just the two of them that year," Hermione said and they both laughed.

Harry and Hermione talked for over an hour about the tournament. After the business end of the conversation was over they took this long overdue opportunity to catch up on everything that had been going on since they had last spoken. Hermione had missed Bill and Fleur altogether and laughed appreciatively as Harry retold the story of their visit. They discussed names for the baby but Hermione seemed to agree with everyone else: that they shouldn't rush the decision.

"While we're on the subject of the baby," Hermione said as she stood, lying her parchment and quill on the desk, "I have a confession to make."

"You do?" Harry asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"I actually did know the staff would react the way they did."

"Really?" Harry said skeptically.

"Yeah. It's too bad Ginny couldn't be here too but…"

"Be here for what Hermione?"

"Follow me." Before Harry knew what was happening, Hermione had pulled him from his chair and was leading him to the door. "We have a little surprise for you."

"Oh no, Hermione, what did you do?"

"Come on Harry, it was a team effort." She said the last five words very loudly as she threw the door open.

Harry let out an audible gasp as he took in the sight before him. A massive wicker basket sat on the floor beside Abigail's desk. It was large enough for a Hagrid-sized Little Red Riding Hood and stuffed to overflowing with all kinds of gifts: toys of all shapes and sizes (including several that wouldn't be used for several years), handmade blankets and clothes, and a fair number of items for Harry and Ginny including their favorite treats from Honeydukes and a few other useful items. It was a moment before Harry noticed the growing crowd of applauding witches and wizards surrounding him. "What is all this?" Harry said in exasperation.

"What does it look like?" Hermione said with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll help you get it home. Go on. Take a few minutes to talk. I'll intervene if things get out of hand."

"Very funny." Harry glared at her and turned to the small crowd of people before him. "You all really shouldn't have. I'm touched," Harry said, shaking hands. "Thank you all. Ed… Will… Larry… Sally…" Harry continued greeting as many people as he could. Distantly he thought he heard a faint pop from somewhere behind him. Turning he noticed Hermione had heard it too. Shrugging, she indicated she would be right back, and turned into her office.

"When will you bring the dear in so we can see him?" a young witch was asking breathlessly.

"I promise we'll come by as soon as we can for a visit, but as you probably know, we're going to be out of the country for much of the year."

"Oh do be careful out there won't you?"

"Of course Mandy. I'm sure everything will be fine. Professor Ivonov is a fine man. He'll take good care of us, you can be sure." Harry was beginning to think the stream of people would never end. "Yes, wonderful to see you too Hubert. Give my best to your wife."

"Harry."

"Hang on a minute Hermione. I think I'm nearly done."

"Harry that was Ron in the fire," Hermione said darkly tugging on Harry's sleeve.

"What did he want?" Harry said, still shaking hands

"Harry, would you come here!" Hermione gave a final yank on his arm, pulling him from the powerful grip of a rather disgruntled looking Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What?" Harry hissed, trying not to yell. Harry noticed Hermione looked pale and stricken as she steered him into the corner, turning him to face away from the crowd of curious onlookers.

"Something's wrong," Hermione whispered severely. "They're taking the baby to St. Mungo's right now."

* * *

Under better circumstances Harry might have observed how much respect Hermione commanded from her subordinates and how well organized they were. Despite the obvious fact that something was terribly wrong, with only a few quickly whispered words to Kingsley, Hermione had set off a cascade of action. The sea of people in front of them parted as Hermione and Harry ran down the length of the room, turning and sprinting along the corridor toward the Department for Counterfeit Spells and Objects, where Arthur Weasley could be seen poking his head out of his office impatiently. Two Aurors followed behind them while many more were running in the opposite direction, through the giant oak doors and into the lift at the other end of the corridor. 

Running entirely on instinct Harry reached quickly into the jar beside Arthur's office fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire Hermione had lit with her wand as they slid into the room. Harry was just stepping toward the roaring emerald green flames when Hermione yanked him back. "Hold on Harry. Hestia, you and Sturgis go first. You know what to do."

"What are you doing?" Harry bellowed at Hermione as the two Aurors disappeared into the flames. "Let me through!" Arthur grabbed Harry's other arm as Hermione struggled to restrain him.

"In a minute Harry," Hermione said, trying to sound calm. "We need to make sure everything is clear."

"What do you mean clear?"

"We need to make sure everything is safe. We don't know what this is yet Harry."

"My son is going to the hospital! I should be there! This isn't about my safety."

"We don't know that. You're the most famous wizard alive, Harry. We'll never be sure we found all the Death-Eaters. If one of them wanted to get to you, your family would be a target. I don't like this any more than you do Harry, but we can't just barge in there until we know what's going on." Just then there was a green puff of smoke in the fireplace. "There's the signal: all clear. I'll go first," Hermione said as she reached into the jar for more floo powder, "Harry will follow me and then Arthur, you'll follow Harry if that's alright."

"Fine," Mr. Weasley said. "I'll see you there. I'll just stop and tell Fred and George what's going on and I'll be right behind you."

Several dizzying seconds later, Harry emerged from a fireplace in a small study. Leaping over a sofa, he sprinted for the door. As he emerged into the long, sterile looking hallway, he took aim at the main lobby with its desk labeled "Inquiries" and began to run just as Hermione, once again, grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-lurch.

"Harry, we already know where they are, now calm down." She took Harry by both shoulders and looked deeply into his fiery green eyes, which now held a fear she had never before seen in them. "Harry, you have to stay with me. I know you're scared, but you can't forget who you are. We don't know what this is yet and you can't go bouncing off the walls and raising all kinds of racket. We don't know what this is, and until we do, I need you to be strong. Ginny needs you to be strong. Are you with me Harry?" Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears but she blinked them away, hardening her stare. "Are you with me?"

Harry nodded weakly but didn't speak. Millions of thoughts raced through his head, crowding out his reasoning, his logic, his speech. Suddenly it occurred to him that he hadn't even considered using magic. Hermione pushed gently down on his arm as he drew his wand, almost out of instinct.

"You won't be needing that. There's nothing you can do. You need to be calm as we walk through the lobby. The last thing we need is a bunch of people wondering why Harry Potter is running through St. Mungo's looking panicked."

"Where is he?" Harry's voice cracked as he finally spoke.

"Second Floor," Hermione said calmly as she guided Harry between the people wandering the lobby.

"Magical Bugs? What is it? What does he have? It's not Dragon Pox is it?" Harry stammered, his voice rising.

"Harry, what did we just agree upon?" Hermione scolded. "You must stay calm." Harry nodded urgently. "Good. Now they don't know what it is yet. They're starting there and they'll move him once the have a better idea of what's wrong."

As they climbed the last few steps before the second floor landing, Sturgis Podmore turned to meet them. "They're just across the hall there," he said gesturing to a door marked _Emergency Diagnosis- Viewing Area_. He glanced down the corridor in both directions and made a hand signal to an Auror down the hall from them.

Harry was in a trancelike calm, too overwhelmed to show any emotion at all. The scene they found when Hermione pulled open the door was much different. Before anyone could say anything, Ginny collapsed into Harry's arms and wailed unintelligibly into his chest as he carried her toward a chair and sat with her. Mrs. Weasley was leaning against another chair for support, crying openly into a handkerchief. Ron simply stood, looking dumbstruck. Hermione crossed quickly to him, hugging him tightly as he whispered in her ear.

Harry glanced around. They were in a small rectangular room, too wide and short to be considered a corridor but too narrow and barren to really function as a room. The only items in this room were the chairs where they sat: two rows along the center axis of the room, facing away from each other. Straight across from each row of chairs, along the right and left hand walls, were two large doors next to two large glass windows looking into two large exam rooms. The one on the right side was empty and dark, its door propped open for easy access. Inside the one on the left a dozen Healers in green robes were bunched together over a table on which, Harry could only speculate, must be his infant son. He tried several times to crane his neck this way and that, but never glimpsed anything that would help explain the situation. Just then Mr. Weasley burst through the door.

"How is he?" he asked the room at large. Ginny was still catching her breath as Harry tried feebly to calm her. Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to speak and doubled over as another flood of sobs overcame her. "Molly please," Arthur said, crossing to her and lifting her face in his large hands. "You have to be strong Molly. Look, you're making Ginny hysterical. Calm down and tell me what's happening."

Mrs. Weasley steadied herself but still couldn't speak. Finally, a dark voice Harry didn't know rose from over his shoulder. It was a moment before he realized it was Ginny speaking. "I went in to wake him for his afternoon feeding…" she said, sniffling as she turned away from Harry and leaned back against him, facing the others. "He was…" Ginny's voice broke and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "He was stiff and looked… I don't know, scared."

"Scared?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yes. No. I don't know. He just wasn't right. I could tell from his face something was wrong. I tried to pick him up and his arm was twisted back and his leg was bent strangely. When I tried to pull it straight he screamed bloody murder. His knee wouldn't even budge." Ginny choked again. Harry squeezed her and kissed her softly on the back of her head. "It was stiff as iron. I couldn't get it to move and even the slightest pressure hurt him."

There was a silence in the room as the strangeness of what Ginny was saying permeated the heavy air. On the other side of the glass, one or two Healers would occasionally run out of the room and return with a strange instrument or a book. Harry stared straight ahead, too stunned to speak. Occasionally a Healer would shift positions and Harry would briefly glimpse a tiny hand or foot and his breath would catch in his throat. Ginny couldn't bear to look. Ron cleared his throat several times.

"Has anyone heard anything like this before?" Ron asked. Harry looked hopefully at Hermione but her silence gave the answer. Whatever they were dealing with was rare enough, even Hermione hadn't heard of it. Ginny turned again and buried her face in Harry's shoulder as he blinked up at the ceiling.

Time lost all meaning and definition. Seconds seemed like hours, minutes felt like seconds.

"Did you tell Fred and George?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Mr. Weasley. "They're going to pass word to Bill, Charlie, and Percy and come by as soon as they can."

The room was silent again for a long time. Harry wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there when he saw a Healer slam a book closed in frustration and turn grimly to the faces watching from the other side of the glass. With what was obviously a deep sigh, he pushed open the large door next to the window and approached the weary family.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," he began. Harry nodded by way of a greeting. "I'm Healer Branson. First of all, your son remains stable without assistance and it does not appear he is in any immediate danger." There was a collective sigh throughout the room and the air around them suddenly felt lighter. "That's the good news. We still haven't found anything conclusive about his condition. I'm sorry to say, this is something nobody in this hospital has ever seen. Given the mysterious nature of the condition, we aren't letting our guard down. He may not appear to be in danger, but we don't know what to expect."

"Have you looked into Muggle symptoms and remedies?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Branson said with a nod. "There are a number of conditions common among Muggles we have examined. One is called Tetanus, which is a bacterial disease and can result in stiff joints, especially the jaw. Another condition that does not restrict itself to Muggles is called rigor mortis…" Ginny gasped audibly, "Which is a stiffening of the muscles shortly after death. Don't let that one frighten you. Neither of those conditions' symptoms matches what we're dealing with. The stiffness in your son's joints is much more pronounced and, we have determined, has nothing to do with his muscles at all. It appears we're dealing with the joints themselves."

Hermione's head suddenly jerked in Harry's direction. Harry looked at her in confusion. Hermione's eyes wandered, as she seemed to be trying to recall something. A confluence of thoughts seemed to be coursing through her mind as her face twisted in concentration. After a moment her eyes opened wider and she looked again at Harry. "Harry, how is your shoulder feeling?" she said slowly.

"My shoulder?"

"Yes, you were rubbing it in my office. You said it was sore from holding the baby."

"Yeah, what about it?" Harry asked trying not to sound perturbed at the interruption. Healer Branford, however, seemed to have caught on to Hermione's train of thought and was listening now with great interest.

"How does it feel right now?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Fine!" Harry spat, throwing his right shoulder back. "Ow!" Ginny wheeled around when Harry suddenly froze mid-motion. Harry's face was screwed up in pain as he reached over with his left hand, gripping his shoulder and slowly lowering his arm, wincing.

"Hold on there," Healer Bradford said, walking over to Harry with his wand raised. Harry instinctively recoiled. "It's alright Mr. Potter. I need to have a look at your arm. Are you able to remove your shirt?"

"Aaah, I'm not sure," Harry said with a grimace. "I don't know why it's…"

"Never mind then. Hold still." With a flick of his wand, the Healer vanished Harry's right sleeve and was now hovering his wand over Harry's shoulder. He muttered several incantations Harry had never heard. Occasionally Ginny's ears would seem to perk up as though she had heard something familiar. "Hm," Healer Bradford said as Harry's sleeve rematerialized. "This is an interesting development. It seems we may, in fact, be dealing with a communicable disease. Your symptoms seem to be an early stage of what your son is going through. Who else has been in close contact with the baby recently, especially for extended periods of time? I'm sure _you_ have Mrs. Potter. Anyone else?" Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Have you felt unusual stiffness in your joints?"

"I never thought anything of it," Ginny said in amazement, rubbing her knee and stretching her leg experimentally. "After all, why would I complain? It wasn't nearly as bad as the pregnancy. I just attributed it to, as Harry said, being tired from holding the baby so much. What does this mean?"

"I don't know yet," Branford said, suddenly sounding optimistic, "but this is definitely something to work with. If you'll excuse me, I need to discuss this with my colleagues and see if it gets us closer to determining what this is."

They all watched eagerly as Healer Branford closed the door behind himself, speaking rapidly now to the other healers in the room. Several of them showed brief looks of astonishment, while others cocked their heads in curiosity. Eventually Branford turned back to the examination table with his wand raised and the baby was, once again, obscured from view. Several other Healers rotated closer, each trying their own techniques. Harry let out a groan as several of them shook their heads and stared up at the ceiling with looks of defeat.

"It's okay Gin'. I'm sure they'll find something," Harry said, squeezing Ginny tightly as another silent tear trickled down her cheek. She turned her gaze away from the window again, choosing instead the emptiness of the dark room over Harry's shoulder. Ron walked over and rubbed Ginny gently on the back, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Harry gave him an appreciative nod and Ron squeezed Harry's shoulder before recoiling, looking suddenly concerned. Harry realized why he was worried and shook his head slightly to indicate there was no harm done.

Looking thoroughly helpless, Ron shrugged and took up position on Harry's other side, staring ahead through the glass as the endless stream of Healers bustled about, checking one book and then another, trying one test and yet another. Harry admired their tenacity. He didn't know whether it was compassion or scientific curiosity that was driving them to keep trying, but he didn't care. Somehow Harry felt confident they would stop short of nothing but a cure for whatever it was that had crippled his son and now, it seemed, might be affecting any or all of the family.

Slowly the minutes continued to tick away as they sat and stared ahead. So many different Healers had gone in and out of the exam room, Harry had lost track and began to wonder how many it really was. By now, most of the hospital staff probably knew they were there. Harry was watching now as a tall Healer with wavy brown hair stood arguing with a woman who was clutching a very old looking book in her arms. Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed her before. She was the only one in the room not wearing lime green Healer's robes. The couple looked familiar for some reason. Harry wasn't sure if it was because he had seen them coming in and out of the room all day or if he had seen them somewhere else. He dismissed the idea, remembering how impossible it was for someone as visible as he, Harry, was to remember every person he ever spoke to. He was used to seeing people he recognized but didn't know. Why would St. Mungo's be any different?

"What is keeping Fred and George?" Mrs. Weasley said in frustration. "It's been hours."

"Don't worry Molly," Mr. Weasley replied. "Who knows how quickly they'll get in contact with any of the other boys, let alone all three. Plus they have to close up the shop. They'll be here."

Now the couple was arguing more fervently over the book. The wavy-haired man tugged at it, which earned him what looked like a piercing shriek. Several of the other Healers in the room looked as though they were trying to calm the feuding pair. Harry continued to wonder where he had seen these people before as the man now pointed gravely in the direction of the exam table and then, to Harry's surprise, straight at him. The three of them locked eyes for a moment. After a few confusing seconds the woman tossed the book on a nearby table and stormed from the room.

Harry looked down and realized Ginny had fallen asleep in his arms. They must have been sitting there for hours now and Harry had considered suggesting she get some sleep several times. Now he was glad he hadn't, knowing Ginny would have balked at the idea.

Looking back up, Harry now saw the wavy-haired wizard flipping through the old book, searching eagerly, almost as though he were looking for something he had read once before. Suddenly he picked up the book and carried it over to one of the other healers. Now that Harry got a good look at it, that old book looked familiar too. He started to wonder if he was seeing things and considered asking Ron to give him a sharp pinch in the side.

An abrupt rush of sound and a crash brought Harry out of his reverie and he realized two Healers were now walking briskly toward them. Healer Branford was now accompanied by the tall brown-haired Healer, who was carrying the book, both of them looking excited and worried at the same time.

"Nobody move," Healer Branford said curtly.

"We've been sitting here for six hours. We're not going anywhere," Harry said with slight frustration.

"I realize that. I just mean stay where you are. Try not to move around. I'm pretty sure we've discovered what we're dealing with here." At those words, Ginny was instantly awake again and turned around on Harry's knee, opening her mouth to respond. "Mrs. Potter please, this is very serious. You mustn't move around. None of you." Branford reached over and placed a hand on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder as she tried to stand. "Please. Let me explain.

"This is my colleague, Mr. Simmons," Branford began before anyone else could interrupt. "He is a specialist in magical diseases."

"Now I remember," Harry blurted.

"I'm sorry?" Mr. Branford said, eyeing Harry curiously.

"I thought I recognized you. We met several months ago down on the ground floor corridor. Robert right?"

"I was wondering if you would remember," Robert responded, smiling. "Nevertheless, we have important matters to discuss. You might remember also, Harry, that we were discussing a book, this book in fact." He flipped the book closed, holding his place with his index finger and turning it so Harry could examine it. Harry swallowed hard and Hermione shot him a curious look. Harry nodded minutely and looked up at Mr. Simmons, urging him to move on. "This is a rather unusual volume," Robert continued, "It contains information on a vast number of subjects, most of which we cannot begin to comprehend. When I was told about your son and his condition I thought this book might be helpful. It took me quite a while to get it here but I believe we've found out what this condition means.

"As far as we know, this disease hasn't been seen for over eight centuries. It starts out—"

"What is it called," Ginny interrupted.

"It has no name," Robert responded evenly, "or, more accurately, it has no English name. The first accounts of the disease come from Egypt and there is no good translation for the Egyptian name. The best word we have for it is—"

Robert was interrupted again, this time by the door to the main corridor bursting open. "THEY'RE OUR FAMILY AND WE'RE GOING IN!" Fred and George Weasley tumbled through the doorway. Outside a furious looking Auror looked in. All three of them were out of breath.

"Fred, George," Mrs. Weasley began, "what in Merlin's name is—?"

"Hush mum," Fred stammered, looking pale. To Harry's surprise, he could see George had tears in his eyes.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley, rising and walking toward the twins despite Healer Branford's objections, "what's wrong?"

"We…we've just spoken to F…Fleur," George said with a sniff. "Bill is dead."


End file.
